Brotherhood
by TheGuyWithANinjaPsyche
Summary: Human AU. Four young men, from very different paths shall realize their calling, and band together as one. [Rewrite of Four]. Please Read and Review! Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

BrotherHood

Chapter I

 **Welcome to the rewrite of my story Four. The main foundation will be the same, but I'm going to go into more detail which brother. The four of them will meet in an organic way and not feel so forced. Hope you enjoy, and as always read and review!**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

The Purple Dragons were never a group of respectable beings. The gang in New York was rowdy and uncivilized, but if you compare them to the ones in Chicago…it'd be like watching a cat fight a Gundam. What I'm trying to say is, the Chicago sector were basically demons in disguise.

They were vile and destructive creatures. They took what they wanted and when they wanted. They didn't care about the cops or the people who got hurt in their wake. If you got in their way, you weren't gonna make it.

Out of all of the Dragons, there was one in particular who had a very rough edge to him.

 _I-I-I-I've been on these streets for too long, too long, too long_

 _Baby I've been on_

 _Baby I've been on these_

 _I've been on these streets for too long, too long, too long_

 _Baby I've been on_

 _Baby I've been on these_

 _I've been on these streets for too long_

"Yo, Red! Get a move on 'fore the pigs get here!" A young man with dark green hair and golden eyes tapped on the shoulder of another member with colored hair as well. The two had just finished breaking in and robbing a house. The bags they carried were filled with expensive items like consoles and assorted jewelry. Music played from the new Samsung Galaxy they had just acquired.

"You think I give a fuck about the cops, Slash? We'll be outta here before they get here anyway B." The man who was referred to as 'Red' had chocolate-caramel skin and firetruck red dreadlocks. His piercing acid green eyes could make your heart thump in love or fear depending on how he was feeling. His nose piercing, septum ring and snake bite piercings made him look like an unapproachable wild member of the youth. A black headband covered his forehead and shadowed his eyes. Like the gang was known for, the two were tatted with a vibrant royal purple dragon on one arm.

 _See, I've been wandering the streets_

 _Watchin' everything from the hunger to the beef_

 _Never had a brother here to guide my direction_

 _So, I had to learn with the moves of my feet_

 _Had to take a whoopin' or two to learn fightin'_

 _Even though I'm good, I don't even really like it_

 _Had to deal with niggas that be thinkin' they royalty_

 _None them mo'fuckers don't know about loyalty_

 _They talked about it, I watched them talk about it_

 _I got surrounded 20 deep and no one walked up out it_

 _With bats and boots they beat me down, I didn't walk up out it_

 _I came up out the hospital, they wanna talk about it_

 _They claim that they were ride or die, they ran, I had to fight or die_

The two delinquents saw the famous flash of fluorescent crimson and cyan. But the two made sure that they wore thick gloves, baggy hoodies and masks. Red saw an item that he found quite interesting when he snatched it from the home. The item was that of a samurai mouth guard. Its deep vermilion and rich tone spoke to him. The two climbed up a fire escape to evade the cops, they had to crouch in the shadows just to be sure.

 _And then these niggas had the nerve to run their jaws about it_

 _Sayin' they apologize and how that shit won't happen twice_

 _But I don't give out second chances, I tap jaws about it, 'bout it, 'bout it_

 _What about it? I gave no fucks about it_

 _'Cause niggas left me out for dead and gave no fucks about VI_

 _So, I be on my "Uncle Ruckus", I don't trust no new niggas_

 _I left y'all black and blue niggas_

 _So fuck your block and all you niggas_

 _So long_

"Damn right, Slash. Ain't no pig or pedestrian gonna stop the Purple Dragons. If they try, they can catch these hands." Red's fingers ran through his crimson locks as they hung near his face. He had a couple of metal skulls as jewelry through his dreadlocks, they sat in the front which made them visible. But there was one of which he kept hidden in his forest of ropes he called hair. It was a piece of lock jewelry that looked like a heart repaired with a Band-Aid.

 _I don't open my heart to many women_

 _'Cause of my name, nowadays I'm just some bitch's winnings_

 _For social media, digits, broads get emotions spinnin'_

 _I catch on and they get cut like opening ribbons_

 _I get looked at as a come up_

 _But I ain't stupid, so that's where most of y'all fuck up_

 _Wrong cases thought I belonged in the wrong places_

 _Just like I bared my heart to the wrong faces_

"Aye, Red?" Slash's golden eyes glanced over to the spaced out youth.

"Hmm?"

"Why you always hidin' that one piece you got in the back of your hair, man?"

 _I've been led on by a woman I was fallin' for_

 _And it's obvious she's made a nigga fall before_

 _So the game you bitches run, I ain't fallin' for_

 _Now I'm quick to ask, "What's the reason that I'm fallin' for?"_

 _I'm either a rebound as part of your selfish motion_

 _Or 'cause I'm buzzin' I'm a tool to your self-promotion_

 _Whatever your motives was revealed I was a fool to trust_

 _A woman of your grade, now these streets ain't for the two of us_

Red never divulged why. But he and Slash were thick as thieves, they knew damn near everything about one another. So he decided to tell him, as he cut the music off.

The dark skinned youth let out a deep sigh.

"It's because some bitch cheated on me. It was my first actual relationship and she just threw it in my fuckin' face, B. Also it might be because I don't want nobody knowing I got a heart. You know I'd never spill to any of them other dudes. They just gonna take that shit for weakness, son."

"Damn, man. That's rough. Also, why you always sayin' B and son and shit?" A small smirk appeared on Slash's scarred face. He was called Slash for a reason, too many close calls to the face with a knife.

"What you mean? I'm from Brooklyn, bruh. That's how we talk and shit, you feel me?"

The conversation was cut short by the sound of a window opening behind them. They had forgotten they were on a fire escape. The two tried to escape but Red was dragged into the window by his hood.

"Slash, go the fuck home!" A Spanish accented voice yelled out to him. It was distinctly female. Slash obeyed because he knew that voice belonged to someone he didn't fuck with.

Red laid on his back as he gazed at the shadowed woman. The lights flashed on to reveal a childhood friend of his. Her apartment was just like how he remembered it, girly and tomboy-ish hat the same time. She wore a tight black long sleeved shirt and fuchsia pink boy shorts

"Raphael, what the fuck are you doing out at this time of night? And why the hell do you have that big trash bag with you!" She was known as none other than Mona Lisa. She had known him since they were children. Her deep brown eyes got him into a lot of trouble with her father, and out of a lot of trouble with the police. Her body, on the other hand, dragged them both into a swirling tornado of emotions back when they were younger.

"Look, Mona I—"

"Did you just rob someone?!" She usually berated him like a mother would a small child, but it was because he deserved it.

"No."

"Ay Dios Mios! Raphael, if the pigs catch you, you're done for!" She picked him by his hoodie and growled angrily. Her brain was trying to not have an aneurysm, because her best friend was irritating the hell out of her right now.

"You think I give a shit about the cops?" Raphael gently removed her hands from his hoodie.

"Raph, what the hell I'm gonna do with you?! You get yourself into trouble every single time, and every time I try to help you, you end up disappointing me!" Mona's peach colored skin was red with anger as she ran her thumb and forefinger through the bridge of her nose. "You keep hangin' with the Dragons, you'll either end up dead or in prison. Either way, you'll be fucked. Why do you even hang with those assholes?!" Mona's voice reached a high tone.

"They the only family I got, B!" Raph screamed back. His breathing was labored as these emotions boiled inside of him.

"Family? We're your family, Raph! Me, Casey, Angel. Hell, even Sebastian's British ass! You don't need the Dragons! Just come back to us, we need you. I don't wanna see you locked up in prison or six feet under."

"Why do you care so much, Mona? It's my fuckin' life, I can do whatever I damn well please." His shining emerald burned back at her chocolate brown. Her beautiful and soft features glared at him in irritation. He got up and made his way towards her window, ready to jump back into the lion's den that he called the streets.

"Oh no, where do you think you're going, _pendejo_?" Her septum ring glimmered against the moonlight as

"I thought I was leaving. You can't stop me, Mona."

She grabbed his arm forcefully, tugging at his sleeve desperately like how a child would tug at their parent.

He turned towards her, ready to scream her head off.

"Mona, let me go damn it! " Raph's voice instantly died when he saw tears run down her gorgeous visage.

"Don't go." Those two simple words that were said with such conviction and pain, shot right to his hardened heart. The street tough's acid green orbs softened to a warm grass color. Damn it. Why did shit like this calm the raging storm inside his chest? It angered him and saddened him with a duality that tore him apart.

"Mona. Don't cry…please."

"Please, don't go. Don't go back out there, don't…not again. I can't lose you again." He and Mona had a thing back when they were teens, but when he joined the Dragons, he left her all alone. They were around seventeen and sixteen. That was four years ago, with him being twenty-one and her being twenty now. She gripped the fabric of hoodie and cried into his chest. He was led to her bed as he held her, he hadn't done this in a very long time. He hadn't held anyone in a long time as a matter of fact.

He wanted to leave, but her trembling form cemented him right in this very spot.

* * *

When Mona awoke in the morning, Raphael was nowhere to be seen in her room. She found a note next to her pillow.

' _I'm sorry, I gotta go. I gotta go be me, you know how it is. -Raph'_

The fiery haired youth walked the streets back to the Dragon's Lair. It was some old run down building they had fixed place was a decent hideout; it was manageable for a gang. He was wearing his custom Purple Dragon leather biker vest, which had 'RED' embossed on the back, with the symbol of a bandaged fist. He had a tendency for wearing all black. He saw Slash conversing with some other Dragons.

"What's good, Red?" The green haired friend greeted him with a handshake.

"Sup, Slash."

"Where you been at, Red? Last time I checked you got caught up with Mona. You had a fun time, buddy?" Slash nudged Raph's ribs playfully with a smile and chuckle.

"Oh really? You was chillin' with a bitch last night? What she look like? Think she decent enough to pass around to the gang?" A random Dragon sneered as he spoke about Mona.

Raphael's acid green eyes flickered and in a second, his fist was introduced to the Dragon's face. A sharp sound rang throughout the base

"Watch your fuckin' mouth, B—you ever talk about her like that again, I'll snuff your fuckin' ass right where you stand." Raphael's voice was poisonous, dripping with venom even. Snuff in Brooklyn lingo meant to beat or kill someone, that's something he didn't joke about. at. all.

"Hey, break it up! Red, I'm glad you're here. I got a mission for you." A deep grumbling voice belonged to a tall blonde-haired giant of a man named Hun. He was the known leader of the Dragons in the Chicago district. He was one who was ruthless and damn near didn't have a heart. The office door was wide open so he could see all.

Raphael walked over to the office area with the usual scowl.

"They are some individuals who haven't paid their monthly protection fee. Bring em' back here so we can teach em' a lesson."

"Alright, what they look like?" His eyes weren't focused on his 'boss' because this was the usual fare, go beat up these people, go rob them, go and collect these 'packages', same old same old.

"There's a man with dark brown hair, real short build. Shorter than you. Black shirt and blue jeans The other ass swipe is wearin' a dark grey hoodie and white pants."

"You got it, fam." Raphael began to walk out when Hun stopped him.

"Hey Red, take this just in case." A pistol was slid across the office desk. Raphael picked it up and slid it into his vest without a second thought. The textured cold metal contrasted with his warm brown skin.

He walked out and grabbed Slash.

"We got some business to take care of. Hun wants some dudes who haven't paid, Let's go." The two walked out to go handle their assigned task.

* * *

 **The song lyrics are from: VI Seconds- Too Long  
**

 **I hope you guys enjoyed, I'll be taking it slow this time.**

 **Hope you're buckled for the ride. See ya next chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

Brotherhood

 **Guys, I'm terrible at consistency, please don't hate me. I'm lazy as shit, i know. I will try better to work on that.**

 **But enough of the sob story. Thank you for the reviews and i really appreciate it.**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

Chapter 2

Red sat in the passenger seat of an all-black Buick Lincoln. Slash was the driver to their destination. The streets of Chicago were cold and cloudy, much like the Purple Dragons themselves. The cool breeze of nighttime made their skin stand on end.

"So Red, why you join the Dragons?" Slash's fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he waited for the light to turn green. The music that played through the car's stereo somehow touched Red's mind, it also shed a light of the plight that most people like him face.

 _It never pays to be a slave_

 _Yet these niggas spending money to be put back in chains_

 _Ignorant minds hypnotized by the mighty dollar_

 _The spell of the dead president overwhelming the brain_

 _Better yet the brainless, the prideful turn shameless_

 _The change of getting change has our people making changes_

 _And yet none are for the better_

 _It's all about bettering self and no other with your cheddar?_

 _It's pitiful ain't it?_

"I had nowhere else to go, B. I wanted family. I got it." Red's burning green eyes stared out of the door window he was facing. The young man's skin was prickling with doubt and worry.

"You sure that's it? I think I know you a bit better than that man." Slash droved forward as the traffic light's lime green shined in his scarred face.

"You ever shut your trap, fam? I swear my little sister talks less than you, and she's fifteen." Red grumbled as he absently rubbed the pads of his fingers across his dragon tattoo.

"How's Angel anyway, Red?" Angel was his adopted sister, he loved her like any brother would. He got into many a fight over her protection…especially when her first boyfriend broke her heart. The poor kid left with many violet welts prickling his skin like bumps on a rock.

"She's in the hospital. She got into an accident."

Slash didn't really have anything to say to that, so he just looked ahead and continued to drive.

"Yo Red, how come you abandoned your old name?" Slash was always wondering something about him, seeing as they were best friends and all. Slash never really talked to anyone except him.

The dark skinned young man lifted his hands in annoyance, which was followed by rolling his eyes in irritation and letting out a deep sigh.

"It ain't who I am anymore, simple. You seem to ask a lot of questions. Any reason why you pressin' me, Slash?"

"Pressin' you? I ain't pressin' you, Red. I just wanna know about my homie is all. Hell, you know more about me than I do about you."

"That's because you don't know when to shut up, telling' me ya life story and shit."

"Why did you abandon your name Slash? Since we playin' twenty-one questions and shit, I'll ask you a question."

 _For the sake of obtaining funds, the peaceful's gripping a stainless_

 _It's pitiful ain't it?_

 _When violence for green is what your whole new aim is_

 _Ain't it some shit? When this is what we're living for_

 _Walking on some bullshit like a hoard of minotaurs_

 _Or basketball fans from Chicago_

 _For the dream of seven figures, several niggas get hostile_

Slash's face didn't really have to tell him anything, his eyes told him all.

"Can we just pop up on these dudes and drag 'em back to the base, cause I'm gettin' tired of waiting." There was something bothering him, he just didn't want to tell anyone…even Slash.

He had to get it off his mind, because there was a task to complete.

"Alright, we're here. Red, you got the stuff?" Slash pulled up in an alleyway, a perfect spot for their target hunt.

Red pulled out a pair of glocks and bandannas. The deep black cloth wrapped around their necks and they pulled on their dark green hoodies. It was time to do what they were known for.

 _See, cash ruins everyone around me_

 _Niggas die for that dollar, dollar bill y'all_

 _It'll break you down and may not rebuild y'all_

 _That cream, that cream, that cream_

 _Cash ruins everyone around me_

 _Niggas die for that dollar, dollar bill y'all_

 _It'll break you down and may not rebuild y'all_

 _That cream, that cream, that cream_

The two walked into a bar and sat down to stake out their targets. The bar's ambience was a soft light that warmed its local inhabitants. It was a sense of comradery, because if it wasn't…the bartender was known for his extensive knowledge on how to use a pool stick.

"So Red-"

"Shut ya damn trap, Slash. I see 'em over there by the bartender." Red harshly whispered. The bartender was a bald middle aged man with rich, mahogany slanted eyes and a greying beard. He was patient and meticulous in his movements. His eyes had the wisdom of experience, yet the fierceness of a cornered rat.

The two men that Hun described were sitting there chatting about something, Red couldn't hear it though. He didn't care honestly, he just wanted to do the job and be done with it. He was, by no means a good person, but he felt that maybe he didn't belong in the Dragons anymore.

But that could wait, he had more important things to do right now.

 _You see, the power of funds_

 _The green devil can cause a mother's neglect of her son_

 _The thought of digits, the dollar can snatch a father from son_

 _The sense of profit can burn a soul as hot as the sun_

 _A hint of money can cause a blunder when chasing the sum_

The two targets walked out of the bar. The middle aged man paused as saw two other bar patrons break out into a fight over a girl. The man walked over to diffuse the situation…with a pool stick. He would never admit it, be he was in awe at the bartender's grace and ferocity. The bartender broke the pool stick over one man's back and used the other half to temporarily paralyze the other.

"There shall be no nonsense in this establishment. To any others that would like to attempt such a thing, stop while you are ahead." The man's voice was like a river, strong but calm. The bar and the bartender resumed as if nothing happened. Red and Slash walked out of the bar to find their two targets having a smoke.

"You know the plan, right Red?" Slash stopped the brown skinned delinquent in his tracks.

"We don't need a plan, B." The red haired scoffed harshly.

"You fuckin' serious, pal? We don't need them blabbin' off to the pigs." The golden eyed ruffian gazed at his friend incredulously.

"I'm deadass serious B. How hard can it be? C'mon son, this child's play. You think I'm fuckin' this up, you must be buggin'." Red, with an incredulous look of his own, gazed at his comrade.

 _Understand that a small mind corrupts with just one_

 _A beautiful life can be taking with the aim of a gun_

 _For what? A hunger for presidents? Savagery surely's begun_

 _Thumbs of civilians stained_

 _With the color that matters more than the blood in their veins_

Red pulled out the two glocks and handed the cold steel to his fellow Dragon member.

"Let's get it." The two said in unison. It was usually their phrase of choice whenever they were about to go find trouble.

 _The shame, that's befalling our fellow people_

 _Is ironically not heard of because we don't speak it's evil_

 _Although I regret it, and I'm sending out this message_

 _I'm a hypocrite because I gotta get it_

 _The paper thin pariah bringing motive's so cold_

 _And although I fight against it, I'm still in it's control_

The darkness shadowed them like, ironically, a pair of ninja. Their shoes crunched against the ground as they tried to make little noise as possible. That didn't seem to be the case as Red's boot broke a twig in half.

"Yo, what the hell was that?" One of the men grunted in confusion.

"Bro, it might be the fuckin' Dragons, let's get outta here!"

The two targets ran off as quickly as their feet could take them. A resounding smack was heard from the back of Red's head as Slash's palm struck it.

"There was possibly no way you could fuck this one up, huh?!" The harsh whisper ran from Slash's lips in anger as he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Look,"

"Shut up and let's go!"

 _I'm a hypocrite because I gotta get it_

 _The paper thin pariah bringing motive's so cold_

 _And although I fight against it, I'm still in it's control_

The two delinquents sprinted after their two targets as fast as they could. This reminded the fiery dread headed youth of his days as a child.

" _Dad, ready or not here I come!" The small bronze skinned child with short red dreadlocks searched for his father in an intense game of hide and seek. His jade green orbs scanned the park for his father._

" _I got you, Raphie-boy!" Hands snatched him up and shook him in the air. His father was a gentle and kind soul. The soulful hazel eyes and the bronze skin and the tall muscular stature made him think of a superhero._

" _Dad! Hehehehe! No fair, you always cheat at this game!" The boy giggled as his father set him atop his shoulders._

" _Nonsense, son. I'm just better at it than you are." His father was his rock, the light of his life. All was good in his life._

 _But just like all people, his father wasn't perfect. As the father walked through the park with Raphael high on his shoulders, He pulled out a metal flask, the contents were a strong smell._

 _Raphael didn't know what it was at the time, but he knew what it did. It made his beloved father sluggish and emotional, it made him rant on about his wife, Raph's mother. From listening to his dad's perspective, he learned that his mother wasn't a good person. Turns out, his father wasn't wrong._

"RED!" A voice snapped him out of his reverie. That voice belonged to Slash, who was currently giving him a look of confusion. "You gonna tell em' why we're here or not? Cause they don't seem to remember."

Red looked down to see that he was on the very same back of the guy he they were chasing. Slash was holding down the other guy as well. He snapped back into his normal state after a head shake or two.

"Alright, you know you two fucked up by not paying, right? Hun wants his pay, and he doesn't play with his money. So make it easy for us and cough up the change." Red's tone was playful and dangerous at the same time.

"It's all we have!" The man groans as Red takes their wallets and pulls out a wad of crumpled bills.

"This is only fifty. You're ten bucks short fam." Red's voice took on a sharp edge as he snatched the man up by his collar. "Lemme fill you in on a lil' something. We gave you a month or two to make up some cash, and this all you give us. Hun doesn't like people being late on their payments. As much of an asshole that he is, he's one for punctuality. We're gonna have to bring you in." Red wasn't for the dramatics but he had to establish fear in them.

You either gain their respect…or make them respect you.

 _Cash has a collective of people that's it ruined_

 _Myself being included, we all walked amongst the ruined_

 _Walk amongst the ruins of what we held dear_

 _Shattered pieces of peace, I won't even rest my head here_

 _I feel self-loathing for letting money hold power_

The look of fear on their poor faces, told them they were in deep shit.

After delivering the two idiots to the Dragon's Lair, Red told Slash he'd catch up with him later, he had business to take care of. He eventually made his way to the place he always goes to when he's in a mood.

"You know, I never understood why I'm still here. The run-ins I've had with near death experiences makes a new record." The troubled youth stood on the grass looking into the sky. A bottle of whiskey was half drained next to him.

 _To live the life of the sweet I've gotta gather something so sour_

 _To live the life of the big others gotta feel small_

 _To climb up the social ladder I cause other's falls_

 _Like, is money talking for me now? Have I been rendered voiceless?_

 _Am I a fucking disgrace? Cause I strangely enjoy it?_

 _See, money talks, money talks, people go silent_

 _Since money talks, if money says it, people go all violent_

The cold night sky made him shiver. But the rage inside his heart kept him warm.

"I'm almost at my goal. I almost got enough money to get Angel outta the hospital and pay her medical bills, maybe even some crutches too. It's a shame you're not here in Chicago with me. Because you left us when I needed you."

"Why did you leave, huh?" Red staggered around in a drunken haze. "You left me all alone, you son of a bitch!" The crushing feeling of being alone was truly agonizing. The man who he needed the most wasn't there to comfort him.

"You fuckin' left me with that bitch I call a mother and that piece of shit stepdad! I fucking hate you, B! I was only seven years old. She's the reason I didn't go to college and joined the Dragons! It was all because I looked too much like you! I didn't deserve to be treated like that, son."

No matter how hard he tried to fight it, the tears came down, they always did. The burning salty water left a depressing taste in his mouth as he sank to his knees, clutching his arms to quell the emptiness inside his soul.

"She said I was never gonna be nothin', no matter how good my grades were, no matter much I tried to be a good kid. I was never enough for her! You're a fuckin' coward, come out so I can beat your ass!"

"COME OUT!" He screamed into the night sky into his voice was hoarse as he threw the whiskey bottle blindly.

"Come out…please. I need you, you bastard. I'm all alone."

The glass bottle was left broken to the side as his brown poison was left seeping into the stone of his father's tombstone.

"Come on Pops, get up. Put the bottle down, dad. Don't go."

Red had his knees to his chest as he cried next to the tombstone. See, his dad left in a sense. His father drank himself into the afterlife from alcohol poisoning. Red eventually crumbled as a kid from not having his dad around. Back in Brooklyn, his classmates were cruel, teasing him about not having a dad anymore. That made him angry, which in turn made him fight and lash out at others.

His own mother treated him like shit, all because he had the face of his father. That pushed him away, like he was a disappointment. Once he graduated from high school, his life turned upside down as he joined the Dragons. His mother cheated on his father and took advantage of him…which is why he drank.

Red didn't even like alcohol, he only drank to remind himself of his father. His father was good to him. He cared, unlike most fathers who just up and left.

Red would give up all this Purple Dragon nonsense, just to have his Pops back. The troubled youth was about to get up and leave before anyone saw him crying, that is until something caught his eye.

There was a graffiti piece near the cemetery that read out:

BE THE FLAMING TORCH IN A WORLD OF SHADOWS.

He had seen the extravagant and colorful pieces around town before. The paint looked to be fresh, which meant someone had recently been here. A yellow paint can and a black and green skateboard with bright orange wheels was even there.

But how? In his moment, he surely would have heard it. It was literally about two feet away. Speaking of hearing things, he had heard what sounded like music playing.

 _Ya betta watch that, comin' atcha! Ya betta watch that, comin' atcha, the funky rhythm comin' atcha! Oooooooohhhh!_

The red headed delinquent scanned around to see the source, but could find none. When he looked back to the graffiti, the paint can and skateboard were nowhere in sight.

"Raphael, you're just drunk, that's all." He got up and left the cemetery, and made his way to Mona's apartment.

* * *

 **The lyrics used above are from: VI Seconds- Cream. (I will most likely be using lyrics from his songs to further help Raph's character arc, because i feel as if they relate to him.** **Also he's a dope ass rapper :)** **Don't worry, I'm not using the lyrics as a crutch, as this isn't a songfic. Only very few from here on out will have lyrics...if I feel they need them.)  
**

 **Also, whoever guesses the soundtrack where that lyric is from...you get bonus points**

 **See ya next Chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

Brotherhood

Chapter 3

 **Hello There! What's poppin' peoples? Here's the next installment of Brotherhood.**

 **Thank you for the reviews, i really appreciate them!  
**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

"Hey kid! Two orders of pepperoni and sausage pies comin' up!" A middle aged man by the name of Antonio yelled out to the kitchen. He was the owner of the famous pizza shop named after him. His best…and only employee was whipping out pizzas like it was his birthright. Before could Antonio could even say anything else, the two pizzas were already on the serving tray.

"Jesus kid, you're too fast for your own good. Thanks!" As Antonio walked over to serve the family of customers, he gave them a thousand-watt smile. This was the reason why he lived, to make people happy.

"Antonio, thank you so much. Didn't say you only have one worker? If so, why can't we meet him. He seems amazing the way he cranks out theses pies!" The father of the family was in a very good mood which seemed to spark this question.

"Eh, he ain't really a people person, you know?" Antonio scratched the back of his head nervously.

"Come on, can we at least say hi?" The father pressed once again.

Antonio bowed his head once again. He sighed and scratched his arm anxiously. Maybe it would go smoothly for once?

"Hey kid, come here for a sec!"

The employee revealed himself to be a 5'6 young man with messy shoulder length blonde hair, freckles, and eyes with the brightest shade turquoise ever. His work apron was covered in flour and dried tomato sauce. His face made him seem extremely child-like even though he was nineteen. He had bags under his eyes and his skin was pale. But something was off about him, the vivid shine of his eyes was dull and empty. His face was completely blank and void of expression.

"Hello, young man. I just want to thank you for your excellent customer service. What is your name?"

The employee pointed to his nametag…which was blank.

"There's nothing there, young man."

The employee's fingers began to twitch and his head began to shake. Antonio sighed in concern. "Look kid, it's ok. Just head home for today, alright?"

The young man grabbed his stuff and bolted outta there as quickly as possible.

"Look sir. The kid's had a very rough time these past two years. Had an accident on the beach that traumatized him ever since. He doesn't really talk much."

"Oh my, I'm so sorry I had no idea." The man' voice was instantly saddened.

"It's OK, you didn't know."

The young man sat on a rooftop near his house. He was trying to quell the storm inside his soul as tears poured down his face. He rubbed the horizontal scar across his neck, reminding him of his affliction. A lot of things were going great until he was asked about his name. He did that piece last night and narrowly escaped the sight of that Dragon with the red hair and brown skin. He doesn't like the color red. It reminds him, too much of what happened two years ago.

When a shark tore his vocal cords and damn near brought him to death's doorstep. You see, he wasn't entirely mute…. just ninety-five percent.

Here's the thing about his name, he doesn't remember it. As a matter of fact, he doesn't remember who he is period. All he can remember are turtles in a fishbowl and this feeling that he should be happy…but he isn't.

The only things that make him happy are skateboarding and doing his graffiti. But even then, he still feels like he's been missing something from his life.

All he could do was put on his headphones (which blasted out several different mixes of Daft Punk, the Jet Set Radio/JSRF/Ollie King soundtrack, and Chill Hop) to block out all traumatic thoughts. He looked to his phone to see he got a text reminding of his appointment today.

You see, he had a therapist to help cope with his issues.

He hopped of the roof and coasted down the street on his board, wiping his eyes along the way. His baggy green hoodie, baggy tan cargo shorts and black Chuck Taylor's felt heavy on him as he breathed away the pain.

* * *

"Greetings, have we figured out a name yet?" The young blonde therapist asked him a simple question. She went by the name of Renet Tilley.

He didn't give her a response because he couldn't, he was mute. But that wasn't the only reason why he was just staring at her.

She was simply gorgeous. Her bright hazel eyes behind thick light blue glasses, and her adorable button nose, and her cute smile. Her long and vivid blonde hair was almost yellow like his was. He always wondered why she was around the same age as him. Like how a could a therapist be so young, but he didn't really care honestly. The room was very vibrant actually, he thought about spraying it with graffiti, but maybe she wouldn't be too fond of that.

She took her ruler and prodded his forehead gently.

He snapped out of his trance only to realize she had been talking this whole time.

"Have you figured out a name to call yourself?" Her voice was gentle just like she was.

He shook his head slowly; he actually hadn't figured out what to call himself. He was born without a name, his parents left him in his adoptive uncle's care because they cared about their careers more than their own son.

So his uncle, William Lockland, otherwise affectionately known as Leatherhead by his nephew and friends, told him to give himself a name. It was because he was his own person now.

For the life of him, he couldn't think of a name.

"You like art, am I correct?" The young man responded with a slow nod.

"Are you familiar with the legendary statue of David?"

His eyes lit up when he heard that name. He grabbed his board from the side of the couch and showed the bottom of it. It was littered with a ton of stickers and custom graffiti. It almost resembled a classroom desk.

He pointed to one particular sticker which read 'Michelangelo'.

"That's right. He was the creator of said statue. Seeing as you enjoy and are clearly gifted in art, would you like me to refer to you as that?" She smiled and tilted her head slightly. "Michelangelo seems a bit long. How's about we just call you Mikey for short?"

The mute young man nodded as he smiled softly. Then he got an idea, it showed because his finger was lifted up in thought.

"Before you ask Mikey, no I haven't read Air Gear or played Jet Set Radio." She took off her glasses to wipe them with her tie (yes, she wears a tie). She had this whole sexy librarian meets geeky chick thing going on. He liked it, a lot actually. Her body was really something to behold, soft and curvy in all the right places. In short, she took care of herself.

He took out his speaker from his backpack and played a favorite song of his. He got up and stuck out a hand.

"Mikey, how will this help your therapy?" She titled her head inquisitively. He was persistent in his actions.

"I've got two left feet here. I dance like a penguin waddles." Her face grew warm at the thought of dancing.

Michelangelo obviously didn't care as he pulled her up from her seat and pulled her close to him. They danced through the session elegantly and clumsily on her part. She never had a patient as interesting and enigmatic as Michelangelo. He was kind and positive despite the terrors of life he had faced. Speaking of those said terrors, his psych profile was extremely interesting. He suffered from memory loss and having no idea of who he was…or at least who he was supposed to be. He dreamed of turtles and the beach and a talking rat.

As the two sat back down, He had a buzzing his chest, he wasn't supposed to feel this way for his therapist. It was totally wrong, right? But back to the therapy session.

One person keeps appearing in his head, it doesn't necessarily bother him, it's just weird. It was about the guy who almost saw him last night.

He couldn't describe to her what he looked like, so he drew him.

He was a little taller than him and he was strong and he had bronze skin. He had a face of irritation constantly. The most striking things about him were his piercings, his vermilion dreadlocks, his acid green eyes, and most importantly his Purple Dragon tattoo spiraling down his arm.

"So, this is the guy who almost caught you?" She raised an inquisitive eyebrow. The picture was extremely vivid even though it was a sketch.

He nodded slowly, his fingers twitched slightly. He hated the color red, it reminded him of the major blood loss he experienced that day. For some reason, something in his head clicked about said individual person he was drawing, so he made up an acronym from the most important things about him. He had red hair, he looked angry and pessimistic, and he seemed to have a lot of hatred in his heart.

The acronym made up the name R.A.P.H.

"Are you afraid of him because of his bright red hair or the fact that he is affiliated with the Purple Dragons?"

For some reason, he had no idea.

"It's ok. I understand. Is it because you feel like you've met him before? But, based on these recent sessions, you've never met this guy before. Do you think he could be a part of your lost memories?"

Michelangelo nodded but he still felt lost inside. He is in fact a free spirit yet the tides always try to pull him back. He was about to speak when a wheezing sound came out, and he bowed his head in self-loathing. She noticed this and put a comforting hand on his cheek.

"Mikey, about your affliction, it doesn't make you useless. You're a great person and you have so much talent and energy inside you. There will never be another Michelangelo like you. Besides, actions speak louder than words. If no one else will be here for you, I'll be." A bright, gleaming smile was adorned upon her face.

He gave her a tight hug and left the office with his things in hand.

* * *

Now that he had a name to call himself, you would think he had done enough soul searching, you couldn't be more wrong in that aspect.

Even he had a name, he couldn't tell anyone. As he sat on the subway, he couldn't help but have this sinking hole in his heart, he wanted to fill it up with paint.

Speaking of the subway, he was responsible for a good majority of the graffiti that littered the train cars. He went by the name Triforce. Which had something to do with another green wearing mute character.

His yellow spray-paint cans were his life, it was all he had.

He received a text from his uncle.

'Are you okay, when are you coming home nephew?'

'I'm cool, I should be home soon. And its Mikey now, Uncle Leatherhead.'

Mikey took out his art book, like his skateboard, its cover was also littered with stickers. It all the pictures of his pieces and concept sketches of ones he had been working on.

"Hey kid, what's in the bag?" He looked up to see a Purple Dragon talking to him, and he didn't look like the polite type.

Oh no.

* * *

 **Ain't that something? What's gonna happen to our favorite prankster? Find out next time on Brotherhood!**

 **Read and Review!**

 **I'm out, peace!**


	4. Chapter 4

Brotherhood

Chapter 4

 **What's Poppin y'all? Bet your happy to see me huh? Well I got a treat for y'all. Let's get it.  
**

* * *

"Hey kid, what's in the bag?" The question wasn't one of aggression, more of curiosity. The subway was eerily silent save for the train tracks.

Michelangelo was looking at the very same Dragon who he drew in his picture. It scared him half to death and intrigued him at the same time. The onyx black headband that casted a shadow over his acid green orbs struck fear inside him. That color was almost like a warning sign. The constant scowl on his face didn't help either. It made him seem like he was always teetering on the edge of kicking someone's teeth at all times. His bright red dreadlocks were wild and everywhere, like tendrils of his anger and frustration in physical form.

The street artist just shook his head. The red-headed street tough crossed seats and sat next to the slightly smaller young man.

"Look, I ain't gonna hurt ya, bruh. You that Triforce kid, right?"

The pale artist shook his head once more, he clutched his backpack tighter.

"Strong silent type huh? I feel you. See I knew you was a street artist with whole bandana and the scribble shit on your backpack and skateboard. Your work ain't bad."

Another stranger walked up to the two of them with a stern face.

"Gimme the bag kid." It was the Dragon who talked shit about Mona. Michelangelo gripped his bag tighter, He was already wary of having one Dragon sit next to him, now another came in the picture.

"You hard of hearing kid? Gimme the bag and there won't be no trouble. I just wanna see what's in it." The dragon spitting out the mean tone was dark-skinned much like the one sitting next to him.

"Look, he don't owe us nothing, b. If he don't wanna give you his bag, then leave the man alone." The dreadlocked Dragon stood up and faced the other one.

"You standing up for him, Red? This ain't nothing to do with you, besides he's just some random kid. Why do you care?"

"We got rules in this gang. We only go after those who owe us money, bruh. He just minding his own business, ain't bothering nobody." Red gave him a stare that would run others blood ice cold.

Apparently, the Dragon didn't care enough to listen so he snatched the bag from Michelangelo forcefully.

The look on Mikey's face was of pure horror, which then turned to anger, as he whipped out what looked like to be, some sort of rope-ball weapon. He swung it in an upward motion, knocking the thief dead in his chin.

The Dragon was clearly angry as he charged at Michelangelo, wringing his hands around his neck. Mikey's face was turning red because of how hard the air was being snatched from his lungs.

He could see his life flash before his eyes.

He saw water and the deep darkness of it and how it swallowed him whole. The flash of the maroon color burned in his brain. He couldn't help but fight the pain, both physical and emotional.

The crowd on the train either gasped or sat and watched. This was normal to them.

Red pulled his fellow gang member by the vest and threw him into the other side of the subway wall. Two fists slugged into the ruffian's face.

The anger the redhead felt was only rivaled to the anger he felt someone hurt his loved ones.

The street artist sucked in large amounts of air as he dropped down his seat. He clutched his throat in haste. His bandana loosely fell from his neck. He had never been so afraid in his life.

But Red barely knew him. Why **was** he standing up for him? Why **was** he protecting him? Even going so far as beating up one of his own members? Wasn't there some gang code or something?

"I told you to back off him! He ain't bothering nobody! You lucky I didn't have that rope-ball shit, cause I woulda beat you like you stole something."

The Purple Dragon member proceeded to pass out.

Mikey heard Red mumble something along the lines of 'coward'

Red picked up the bag and handed it over to Mikey.

"You okay, kid?" Red's tone was calm and even. After a slow nod of confirmation, Red sat back down.

"Listen….you got a name, little dude?" He noticed the scar on his throat, it was probably why he wasn't speaking. It made him sad for some reason.

Mikey grabbed his board and pointed to the bright orange sticker.

"Michelangelo? Too damn long, I'm just gonna call you Mikey. Listen here, Mikey. Never let anybody disrespect you. Not people, not the **pigs** , not even the Purple Dragons. You stand up for yourself, because if you don't. People **will** walk over you; People **will** take advantage of you. Remember that until the day you die."

The blonde rubbed his throat as he looked at the gang member in confusion.

"If you wonderin' why I saved you, it's because you remind me of when I was younger back in Brooklyn. All timid and passive and shit, you feel me? I hate bullies, always have and always will. Not many people know my real name, but you got heart kid, so I'll tell ya. It's—"

Michelangelo stopped him and pulled out the drawing he made of him. He made sure to point to the acronym R.A.P.H.

The street artist's vision began flickering in and out. He was sitting on a rooftop ledge looking out at the sky. He was surrounded by skyscrapers, which suggested New York.

He saw what looked to be a human-sized turtle in a dark red mouth guard sitting next to him. It was burly and armed with pronged weapons. It some form of tactical ninja pants but everything was bare. It had many scars along its frame, especially on its face.

What's even worse? He began talking to him.

"You ok, Mikey? You gawkin' at me like I grew another head or somethin'."

He looked down to see that he himself had three fingered hands and green skin. His hands were wrapped in bandages and he seemed to be holding nunchaku.

His vision flickered once again, he was back in the subway with the street tough he had known as Raph.

"Hey, Mikey. You alright, bruh?" Raph waved a hand in front of his freckled face.

He shook out of his stupor and nodded dumbly.

"You sure? You was gawkin' at me like I grew another head or somethin'."

That's when his eyes widened to comical proportions.

He had to go now.

Right now.

When the train stopped they both got off and went their separate ways. The young mute speeded down the street on his board to see his therapist.

"Wonder what the hell's his problem?" Raph muttered to himself as he made his way to the hospital.

* * *

Renet was performing what was known as the Rorschach test on Michelangelo.

"Ok, what do you see here?" Her calm voice lulled him into a stable mood.

He drew a little sketch of what he saw on his small whiteboard.

"Mikey, is that a throwing star?" Renet looked to see the inkblot she had showed him…she only saw the normal image.

She showed him another inkblot, He drew a nunchaku. Then another, he saw a turtle shell. And then he saw something completely different, a rat.

"Michelangelo, you seem to be having visions of some sort, can you tell me what they are?"

He took his pencil and sketched out an image of two man-sized turtles and a tall rat…man. One turtle had an orange bandana covering his mouth with a black smiley face on it. He seemed jovial and nonchalant. The other had a red samurai mouth guard. He seemed combative and tense.

Renet analyzed the image very carefully as she tapped the eraser of her pencil on her chin.

"Do you believe these man…turtles and rat man speak to you in some sort of way? Almost like you are playing a video game and the turtle in orange is your aforementioned character?"

Mikey jolted up with elation, someone understood him! He pecked on her on the cheek, grabbed his things and bolted.

Renet sputtered like a fish out of water as tinges of pink arose in her cheeks.

* * *

Raph made his way to see Angel in the hospital. He his long sleeve shirt, he didn't Angel knowing he was with the Dragons. It would kill him, if she found out. He had his shoebox with him, which was filled with all the cash he had collected over the many months, legal and illegal. It was enough to get Angel out.

When he got there, she was awake and seemingly functioning.

"Hey, Angel. You good, lil sis?" He spoke in a soft and comforting tone.

"Raphael? Boy, am I glad to see you. You're gonna turning twenty-one tomorrow, you should be getting drunk and having a good time."

Raph's face fell as he winced harshly.

"I turned twenty-one six months ago, Angel."

Her brow raised highly.

"What do you mean, tomorrow's June 7th. You check your calendar, big bro?"

The redhead sighed in sorrow. He bowed his head slightly, he couldn't look at her like this.

"Today is December 7th. You just woke up from a six-month coma. You remember, from the day you got hit by that truck?"

Angel's facial features paled, as she slowly realized her predicament. She looked down at the bed she was sitting up in as it hit her like a train.

It all came back to her, the hollow pain, the beeping from the heart monitor, the bright lights. She began to tear up and hold her hands to her mouth in shock.

"It's ok, the doc said you're gonna be alright. I'm here, Angel. Big bro's here." He encased her in his slightly muscled arms in a loving embrace.

"What do you remember, Ange? If anything. You don't gotta say nothin' if you don't wanna." He released her and sat next to her bed.

"All I remember is a bright light, no horns, and some big burly blonde guy running from the truck."

Raph froze. That sounded awfully familiar, then again it could just be some other big burly blonde dude.

"I think he had a scar over one of his eyes, or something I don't really remember."

Raph's acid green eyes flickered, trying to deny the truth, his fist tightened until his knuckles turned white.

"Did this big, burly blonde dude have a tattoo running up his arm?" The chocolate-skinned young man asked evenly.

"Yeah, it was like a dragon or a purple…something."

Raph did very well at hiding the pure explosion of fury that sat beneath his blank expression.

Hun, the leader of the Purple Dragons, the gang he was currently in…ran over his baby sister. This wasn't gonna end well for the gang.

He forced a smile as he called in the docs to get her situated as he handed the doctor the shoebox. The doctor looked at him warily.

"Keep this on the low, aight? Just tryin' take my sis home."

The doctor took the box, once he saw how much was inside, it didn't take much convincing.

Raph wheeled his sister out of the hospital as the all-too familiar red truck pulled.

The window rolled down to reveal one secretly mental hockey player Casey Jones and his trusted butler Sebastian.

"Greetings Master Raphael and Miss Angel." The butler's proper British tone was warm and comforting.

"Hey Bastian," The two said simultaneously.

"Hey Angel. How ya doin' sis?" Casey's bright smile made her feel a helluva lot better as Raph put her in the backseat and got in himself.

"Better now, Case." She was happy to have her family back.

"Raph." Casey's tone was stern and even. He began to drive off.

"Casey."

"So when you gonna be done with your little street project?" Casey knew he was in the Dragons; he had always known. He didn't want him to be in with them in the first damn place. It was bad stuff, really bad.

"Soon, Casey. Sooner than you think."

Casey wasn't expecting that answer.

"Good, bro."

"What are you guys talkin' bout?" Angel's inquiry popped up in the conversation.

"This video game I been playin'. Looks I got some Dragon slaying to do pretty soon." His fists tightening was a bad sign, especially when he cracked his neck. No one knew that except Casey.

And Dragon slaying he was gonna go. .one of them.

* * *

 **Man, what y'all think gonna happen. I'm gonna tell you this, just know you can't Dragon slaying without Nightwatcher. I'm  
**


	5. Chapter 5

Brotherhood

Chapter 5

 **What up guys! Got a new chapter to start off the new year! Sorry about the infrequent updates. Maybe you guys could help me make a schedule or somethin'! Also, something I been meaning to address. I've noticed that i have more reviews on my old story Four than on this rewrite. It would be wonderful if you favorite and follow the story that you drop a review to tell what you think and or what I could do better upon. Thank you for reading!**

 **Anyways, Let's get it!**

* * *

Raphael couldn't help but tighten his fists in a vice and pace around the living room of Casey's spacious three story home. He hadn't been in it for so long since joining the Dragons, he had forgotten what it was like being there. That wasn't really important to him at the moment though. He had his Purple Dragon vest clenched in his fist.

Disbanding the Dragons was his main priority.

"Master Raphael, you seem to be anxious. Is there something wrong?" Sebastian, the ever loyal butler to Casey Jones and family friend of the adopted Jones family, was coming down the stairs. You might even compare him to another British butler of another costumed vigilante. The redhead looked to the elderly man with shame. He had been waiting for Raph to come home and calm down all this nonsense. It was sad that he was going undoubtedly disappoint him…again.

"Hey, Bastian. I'm not really feelin' too happy right now, you know?" Raphael sat down on the couch and twiddled with his vest. The somber air was something that Raph knew all too well.

"I understand your frustration. There has been many a time where I have stitched up Master Jones' wounds from his reckless actions. You are no different with your gang activities."

Raph's eyes widened slowly.

"You knew?" Was all he could manage to say.

"I've known for a quite some time now. I understand that you can't just let anyone hurt you or your loved ones, but there has to be a time where enough is enough." Sebastian's suit jacket was taken off as he took a seat next to him.

"I care about you Master Raphael; it is more a question if you care about yourself. But I know how you are, you will not stand down from any quarrel."

The dreaded young man shook his head.

"I'm not going just let Hun walk free after what he did to her! I don't care if I gotta go through all the Dragons to get to him. I've done a lot of wrong in my life, but it's time repent for my sins." He got up in a fury heatedly expressing his anger.

"Raphael, it's OK. I'll be fine." The two turned to see Angel. The young girl was recovering quite well. She walked into the room and sat on the couch.

"Nah, It's ain't okay. Somebody gotta teach 'em a lesson, they can't just do whatever they the fuck want, B."

"Don't. Raphael, it's okay."

"Jesus Christ, Mona was right when she said you were a good kid." Raph hated when she was right. Angel Bridge was a girl who didn't really complain about life's troubles, and it pissed Raphael off. So easy to forgive and forget.

"Mona? You got a girlfriend, big bro?"

The air suddenly became thick with tension. He thought she was recovering. Both Raphael and Sebastian slowly turned to her. The young man turned pale.

No. No, this isn't happening, this **isn't** happening.

"You don't remember Mona? The girl who used to babysit you? My ex-girlfriend? The best friend who used to argue with me over everything?"

"I have no idea who you're talking about Raph, she seems just like your type though." She spoke with a smirk.

She realized they weren't laughing.

"What's up, did I say something wrong?" Her smile went away as quickly as it came.

Raph closed his eyes and sighed as he tightened his fists in subdued rage.

"No, you ain't say nothin' wrong, Angel."

"Where you goin', bro?" Angel wanted to know what was wrong with him.

"I'm gonna get some fresh air." Raph tried to fight the tears wanting to spring from his eyes.

As soon as Raph got outside, he instantly lost that battle. The sky was a cloudy grey, much like his mood. He didn't want to accept the fact that Angel was losing pieces of her memory. She forgot who Mona was, a very important person in her life, the person who helped shape her into the bright young girl she is now. How long was it gonna be until she forgot Sebastian or Casey…or even worse, him? He had to breathe, the street tough tied his dreads back and closed his eyes.

He had to tell Casey about this, he needed to know.

As he came back inside, somehow each step got harder to take as he made his way up to Casey's room. This situation was akin to something that happened with his father.

 _Papa? Are you ok?" The little redheaded boy asked as he went upstairs to see his father._

" _Yeah, I'm okay champ. Just having a drink." The metal flask laid by his side on the desk._

" _But the drink makes you sad. I don't want you to drink it." Raphael grabbed his father's flask._

" _What is Mama doing to you, Papa.? Why is she making you sad?"_

 _He never got a definitive answer, but he knew. He just wanted to hear his father say it._

 _Say the cold truth that he wasn't okay._

The chocolate-skinned young man was going to knock on the door when he heard a noise. That alerted him so he pushed the door open.

What he saw was concerning to say the least.

A muscular man in a hockey mask and football armor in all black sat on the bed in Casey's room, covered in bits of blood and brain matter. He honestly resembled some sort of reaper to be exact. His presence was unsettling at best, but he seemed oddly tired and worn out.

"Who the fuck is you, bruh?!" Raphael was ready to attack.

The man turned ready to strike, armed with a bloody hockey stick. Until he saw who opened the door. "Raph?!" The masked man said.

"What?!"

* * *

Michelangelo had come home from work tired and worn out.

His uncle Leatherhead greeted him from the kitchen, who was making his favorite food, pizza. You would think that Michelangelo would get tired of seeing even a piece of pepperoni, since he works at a pizza shop, but he never did. Pizza was something that they bonded over on multiple occasions. Mikey made himself comfortable by plopping down on his special chair, the one that had a smiley face on it.

"Greetings, nephew. How have your sessions been going?" Leatherhead looked to his nephew with a gentle expression.

The blonde boy raised a thumbs up and smiled. His freckles creased around his dimples whenever he did.

"Is it because you've actually had mental improvement or is it because you've been gazing into the bright eyes of your young and attractive therapist?" Leatherhead's golden green orbs looked into his nephew's blushing form.

"It's OK, I was once like you, gazing at pretty girls and not paying attention to any word they say." Leatherhead's voice was sly, knowing that his nephew was a young adult. He would have his interactions with women, no matter awkward they would be because of his affliction. He walked over and put a comforting hand on his nephew's shoulder. Leatherhead's bronze skin contrasted with Michelangelo's pale complexion.

Leatherhead served their dinner on a tray and they dug in. Pepperoni and pineapple was a favorite among their choice of toppings, but they also loved steak and jalapeno.

"How has work been going for you, my dear nephew?"

Michelangelo's demeanor changed entirely.

He visibly winced and slowly put down his slice. A cold lump formed in his throat.

"It can't be Mr. Antonio, can it?" Leatherhead's voice was calm and understanding as he looked intently into Mikey's eyes.

The boy put his hands up in defense. It could never be Mr. Antonio. That man treated him like was one of his own.

"It's the customers. They must think you are strange, Michelangelo. It's just words, they mean nothing."

His uncle's words didn't make him feel any better.

At times he could hear the words of the customers play back in his head.

 _Weirdo._

 _Freak._

 _Rude._

 _Asshole._

It made his chest cave under the pressure, his fragile heart couldn't take it anymore…and so the dam behind his eyes burst. He cried, he cried as hard as he did when the doctor told him he was gonna be mute for the rest of his life. He felt useless, invalid, **defective**. He got up and ran to his room before his uncle could stop him.

He took out his phone and played a certain video.

The only video that was of him speaking.

"Sup future me, I got some things to tell ya. You're gonna do great in life, I can tell, I'm you. You might get some bad vibes along the way, but that just makes all the hard work that much sweeter. Love yourself first before any babe, oh, make sure your style and confidence are rad too-"

Mikey could never finish the video because it was too much to take in. His face was bright and warm…and happy in the video. He used to do parkour and surf and everything before the accident.

It hurt so much.

"Michelangelo, are you OK?" He heard his uncle speak through his door.

He opened his door and hugged his uncle's towering form. The tears shed and soaked his uncle's shirt.

"I am here, nephew, it is OK."

Leatherhead felt quite sad for his nephew, knowing an entire layer of communication and personality was just up and whisked away from him on one day.

He can't say he understands, but at he will be there to help him cope.

* * *

Casey stood there stunned.

"Casey, what the hell you doin' with that shit on? What happened bruh?"

The hockey player shook. He dropped the hockey stick and dropped to his knees.

"I ain't right, Raph. I'm broken, man. There's the voice in my head. It's gnawin' at me, dude! I just came back from beating this rapist fuck. I didn't want to kill him, but the voice wouldn't let me stop. He's dead. I beat him to death, man." His voice sounded too unstable and raw.

Raph wasn't really sure what he meant, but he tried to understand.

"Look, Casey I don't know what's goin' on with you, but there's something I gotta let you know."

The dark blue haired man looked to his adopted younger brother.

"I'm done with the Dragons, permanently. They need to be stopped, once and for all."

He should've told Casey about Angel later given the situation at hand. He needed to think rationally, but of course it's Raphael. He never thinks rationally.

"The Dragons are the ones who put Angel in the hospital. Hun did this. I'm gonna make him pay."

"I'm gonna kill him. I'm draggin' that bastard to hell." Raph had to stop Casey from grabbing his hockey stick and climbing out the window.

"No, Case. This is my fight. Not yours. I gotta repent and settle my score, on my own. This is my redemption."

"They'll kill you."

"I'm damn sure not havin' you die because of my mistake. I gotta make it right, Casey. You know that, bruh. If I die, so be it. I'm takin' that bastard with me."

"You need help bro, I'm comin' with ya. That's final." Casey's deep blue eyes clashed with Raph's acid green

"Case, you said it yourself, you ain't right in the head."

"Damn what I said. You need proper training. I know a guy; he can help you. Don't disrespect him, he's a friend of mine."

"What's the guy's name? How I can trust him?"

"I told him about you, he said he wasn't in the mood for some wayward kid. But as soon as I told him ya name, he said he's train ya no questions asked. He goes by the name of Splinter."

Raph's vision flickered in and out at the sound of that name.

He saw a mirror, but when he looked into it, he saw a man-sized turtle with a red half mask on and scars all over his face.

"My son, are you OK?" He turned at the sound of a voice, which belonged to a tall rat-man.

He blinked again, everything snapped back to reality.

"Raph, you ok?"

"Yeah, just a little out of it over the news."

Splinter must be a weird name to him.

* * *

 **So what'd you think?! Let me know in the reviews what you wanna see happen or what I could improve upon. Thanks, guys!**


	6. Chapter 6

Brotherhood

Chapter 6

 **Hey! Long time no see guys! Just expect infrequent updates from now on. Sorry! Well, hope you enjoy!**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

Raphael sat on the edge of a sleeping Mona's bed. His bare back was greeted by the cool air of her apartment. The early morning shined throughout her fire escape window, gracing itself upon his face. "Raph, what are ya doin', man?" He spoke quietly to himself.

The thought of defecting from the Dragons was conflicting. They were all he had known for a majority of his life, yet he couldn't just let them hurt his family. They had to pay. Though he was surprised to see himself so adamant about taking them down. He wasn't a saint, if any he was almost as bad as them.

A hand on his chest snapped him out of his thoughts.

"You doing your whole brooding shit again. What's up?" Mona's slightly accented voice broke the silence.

"I'm just thinking is all. Got a lot on my mind, you feel me?"

He was sitting in the bed of his childhood friend who he wasn't dating but was screwing on the regular. He couldn't afford anything to blossom between them again. He couldn't put her in the way of what was gonna go down soon. So why was he here? They were supposed to be friends, not fuck buddies.

"You wanna talk about it, _rojo_?" Mona's hands roamed across his chest as he felt her bare breasts across his back.

 _This is dangerous, Raph. You gotta get out of here while you can._

"You ever met a complete stranger and felt like you shoulda known 'em ya whole life?"

"Where is this comin' from Raphael?" Her face switched to a confused expression.

"I met some kid on the subway a couple days ago. His name was Mikey. Another Dragon was fuckin' with 'em so I stepped in. Now I never met the dude in my life, but I got this weird feeling I know him from somewhere. I didn't like the fuckin' Dragon messin' with him, it was like he was messing with my little brother or somethin'."

"Maybe you're just developing a heart, Raph."

"I shouldn't be though. Feelings only gonna leave you six feet under." His acid green orbs burned into her chocolate ones.

"Is that why you're in my bed? Because of feelings?" Her eyes were narrow and sharp, almost as if they were trying to pierce through him.

 _God damn it, woman._

"Look I don't wanna talk about this shit." The redhead's tone became tight as he put on his underwear and pajama pants.

"Why not? You come to my bed for comfort and release, and you don't wanna talk about feelings? You always do this shit, Raph. Why can't we talk about it, huh? You say you don't want strings attached but you stay here in my bed almost every night!"

"Hun is the reason why Angel was in a COMA!"

Mona's body froze instantly.

"What?" Her voice became quiet and small, unlike her boisterous nature.

"I'm going after him, those fuckers get in the way, I'm puttin' 'em down too."

"You stupid? They'll kill you!"

"I'm past the point of giving a fuck Mona. That's the reason why I can't do this with you again! I don't wanna drag you into this shit I'm gonna get into. If they hurt you because of me, I wouldn't live with myself."

"I'm sorry, ok? Look I gotta go. I'll see you in a few days." He continued as he got dressed and made his way out of her fire escape window.

Raphael made his way to the location that Casey gave him. His usual all black ensemble felt heavy on him, as did his heart. He couldn't allow his feelings to get the best of him. Which is ironic in the sense that he's pissed all the time.

"This Splinter guy sounds a little off, but if Casey says he can help me,"

The location led him to the Morning Wood. The same bar that he found those two assholes at with Slash.

 _Why the hell would you call a bar the Morning Wood?_

As he went in the bar, he found it to be empty with the exception of Splinter himself. The soft dim light gave the bar a very eerie tone.

"What brings you here young man?" The old man's voice was strong yet calm.

"Friend of mine told me about some Splinter dude who can train me."

* * *

Michelangelo was on a short finishing a piece, he had his speaker playing his Jazz-hop/funk mix. He had a real good feeling about this one piece.

The yellow can twirled in his hand as he artfully vandalized this wall with his masterpiece. He couldn't help but think about why started doing graffiti in the first place. Was it illegal? Probably. Did he care nearly as much as he should? Nah.

If he couldn't speak anymore, he'd make people hear him through his art. The inspirational quotes and the trippy visuals offered a nice balance. He felt he could be someone important. This was his way of coping with the horror that happened to him. Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night, feeling the phantom pain of the scar across his neck.

The shark still invaded his dreams. The red washing across his skin like a plume of death. It ripped apart of him away that he can never get neck. He had no parents to work through his issues. Only his uncle and his beautiful therapist. For now, they were enough.

The graffiti artist grabbed his board, a green street skateboard he dubbed, the "Stone". He hopped off the rooftop after he finished his piece.

Get it? Because Michelangelo sculpted the statue of David with stone? No? Moving on then.

His other board was a drop through cruiser with bright green wheels dubbed, the "Mikeymobile". He loved both and he took care of them like they were his children.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a voice.

"That's that little asshole right there!" He turned to see the very same Dragon Raph saved him from, with a group of others. His chin was covered with a band-aid and his dark skin was marred from the strike. Only problem was Raph wasn't here to save him.

He almost took off on his board, but they grabbed his backpack and tore him off.

"You think we wouldn't find ya little bitch ass? Red ain't here to rescue you now, little man. I'm gonna get you back for that bruise you gave me. Hold him down." His voice was speaking with a dark and cold tone.

A gut wrenching punch was thrown into his stomach. He wasn't strong enough to wrench his way, he tried to yell for help but all he could do was grunt.

Their fists and boots slugged into him like hammers. He felt like all hope was lost.

"It would nice if you gentlemen back away from the young man." A calm voice came from nowhere. It sounded young, yet wise.

The pain stopped. From Mikey's point of view all he could see was a tall and lanky figure wearing a black suit with a purple tie, standing in the school's gateway. His face was obscured by the Dragon's bodies. He was accompanied by a group of kids.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll back off, Dexter's Lab." The Dragon turned in a defensive stance.

"I believe you fellows have enough brain cells to know what Dexter did?"

"What would that be, Mandark?" A Dragon sneered.

"He solved equations, just like how I'm about to subtract you from this one. Step away from the young man." The mystery man's tone had a nice and gentle tone, yet underlying edge to it.

"What if we don't?"

"I'm going to add an ass-kicking to the equation." The tall man had the slightest move in his form. "Go back inside, class." The tall man moved to the children.

"But Sensei!" The class resounded.

"Go back inside, children." You could tell his tone was final without him raising his voice.

As the class went back inside, the man took off his suit coat and hung it on the fence.

"Bring it on, Bill Nye." The Dragons dispersed from Mikey's form and charged towards the man, He took them all on with swift accuracy and precision. Almost like a samurai would with a spear. Speaking of pole-arms, the man snatched a long pipe from the ground and used it against them. Their limbs were moved just in time to smack each other in the face.

The mystery man walked over a pile of groaning gang members, and towards Michelangelo. His suit jacket was back on like nothing happened. The pole was dropped to the ground instantly.

As he stuck his hand out, Mikey finally saw his face. He was a pale young Asian man with deep red eyes with soft flecks of brown. His hair was a pale brown color with tinges of dark brown. His glasses were the stereotypical nerd kind with a steel design. His face was kind and comforting, as if it always had a smile on his face.

"I'm Donatello, but you can call me Donnie."


	7. Chapter 7

Brotherhood

Chapter 7

 **New Update! What shall we see from the braniac himself?**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

The young man known as Donatello helped up the beaten graffiti artist. A black eye, busted lip, and several nasty violet bruises dotted his visage. It reminded him of back when he was a child back in Japan.

"Are you OK? I'm sorry, I should've stepped in sooner. I can't have miscreants like them assaulting defenseless people like you." His voice was genuine and concerned. Michelangelo shook his head and was about to grab his stuff and jet like always, until Donatello stopped him.

"Let's go get you fixed up, I have some first aid kits in my class, just in case my kids get a scrape or two."

Donnie felt like he should protect this young man from any harm, a strange sense of comradery washed over him. Just like a burst of rage came over him when he saw him getting beat up. He didn't know him, why was he feeling this way?

As the pair went inside the school to Donnie's class. Michelangelo was met with a handful of about ten to twelve children. They all had smiling faces and blissful aura around them.

"Donnie-sensei, are you ok?!" One of the children cried as they went to hug him tightly.

"I'm fine, children. They didn't land a scratch on me." He reassured them.

"Class, this is—what is your name, young man?"

The nineteen-year-old picked up his board and pointed to the gestured the bright orange sticker on the bottom.

"Michelangelo? It seems we both have names from the Italian renaissance. Yours is more fitting seeing as the fact that you spray-paint. I assume you have lost your voice?"

He swiftly nodded.

"Aw, it's okay Mister Mikey. You can still be awesome even if you can't talk." Of one the nine-year-old student's spoke softly. It made his heart arise with comfort, to know that his students cared for someone.

Donnie took out his first aid kit and began fixing Michelangelo's face.

* * *

Raph was sitting on a bar stool talking to the old man.

"So do you know if you can train me or not, old man?"

"You must be Raphael; the one Mr. Jones spoke to me about. Why do you want to be trained in the first place? The bald man spoke as he cleaned a glass. His aura was like a calm river that can cause tsunami if tempered.

"Because a friend told me to come to this place."

"That's not answering my question."

Raph's eye began to twitch in irritation. He held his duffel bag with a death grip. He was seriously about to leave and say fuck it.

"I need to be trained because I need to fuck up a gang for what they did to my lil' sister. There, happy?"

"So you want revenge? Have you thought about what happens when you finally achieve this said revenge?" The man stroked his greying beard, leaving the thought in the air.

"Don't give a damn what happens, honestly. You gonna train me or not?" He ran a hand through his crimson tendrils as he scoffed.

"Fine, I'll train you on one condition." He put the glass down and looked in his eyes. Amber clashed against green. The tension was thick and palpable.

"What would that be old man? Heh, you want me to snatch a pebble out ya hand or some wax on/wax off type shit?"

"If I teach you, you shall not use it personal gain, you will use it to protect those you care for. You WILL not use it for revenge."

"What kinda shit is that?! I need to track down the bastard who put my sister in a coma. She's losin' her fuckin' memory bruh! I ain't takin' no chances with that asshole Hun!" He threw his hands while groaning in irritation. He could feel his temper boiling. Who was this guy to tell him what he could and couldn't do?!

"Your anger will swallow you whole, you will die because of it! It seems as if I am your only chance at defeating them, so if you want me to train you…you will DO as I say!" Splinter's boomed throughout the walls of the bar.

Raph knew he couldn't argue him down, even if he really wanted to.

"Alright alright, old man. Shit."

"Prepare yourself then, Raphael. This will be the most gruesome training you will ever experience. Also you have something that belongs to me."

"What you talking about, Mr. Miyagi?" The street tough was honestly confused; his expression was complete with a scratch of the head.

"The red mask in your bag."

Raphael froze like a statue; his heart began thumping against his chest.

"How did you…"

"I didn't know you had it. I just knew that it was taken from my home. Your face told me everything. But keep it, the fact that you snuck in and stole it without my knowledge is a great quality of a ninja. Plus, I'm assuming red is your color."

* * *

Donatello led a healed Michelangelo out of the door and on his way.

As he walked back to his class, many thoughts ran throughout his mind.

When he came back in class and leaned against his desk, his students could see the concentration on his face.

"Donnie-sensei, What'cha thinking about?" One of his children spoke up. The name Donnie-sensei was an endearing moniker his kids gave him because _sensei_ in English meant teacher or master. Also because he was Japanese.

It was something he was slightly annoyed by at first, but then he grew to embrace and love it. His students were the reason he woke in the morning, to instill them with knowledge and care. Someone for them to look up to.

"Just how about how much I love you guys." A million-watt smile appeared on his face.

"We love you too, Donnie-sensei!" The class roared.

A knock on the door interrupted their noise.

When Donatello opened the door, a young woman entered the classroom.

"Hey there, Donnie."

The young woman was of a fair complexion with fiery orange hair and the brightest cerulean eyes you've ever seen. She wore a bright yellow cardigan and jean pencil skirt with simple black heels. Her hair was in her normal ponytail.

"April, what are you doing here?" A perplexed Donatello asked.

"I had to come see my favorite teacher. Plus, you know we have a hang session today."

He almost forgot, he was so deeply enthralled in his class.

"Donnie-sensei, who's that lady?"

"Children, this is April. But you can her Ms. O'Neil."

The class greeted her with bright smiling faces.

"You're really pretty, Ms. O'Neil." one girl said.

"Thank you, that's so sweet." The redhead responded with a hand over her heart.

As Donnie grabbed his specially crafted mug of tea, he tried to appear nonchalant. His class made it for him in arts and crafts.

"Ms. O'Neil, are you Donnie-sensei's girlfriend?"

The teacher choked on his tea. His pale skin burned pink and he almost dropped his mug.

"Class, that's a very inappropriate thing to ask."

"You're not denying it." One student smartly said.

"Sensei's got a girlfriend, sensei's got a girlfriend!" The class chanted.

"Who wants to go out for recess?" He said hurriedly.

The children roared in glee as they went outside.

The two sat on a bench next to the playground.

"April, you okay?" He realized that she hadn't said anything about the whole ordeal.

"Yeah. I need to talk to you about a report I'm doing." Her voice was calm and even.

"Sure, what's up?"

"There's been many missing parent reports coming from this school's system. Would you know anything about that?"

"I haven't been informed of this at all, that's awful."

"Oh, well thanks for letting me know."

"How's that guy you're with?"

"What guy, I've been single this whole time."

"Oh."

"Something you wanna tell me, Don?" He could see this mischievous stare in her gaze.

"No, just happy that you're happy." That was his genuine answer…mostly.

If only she knew.

He noticed something off about one his students. That very same student came to speak to him. She was the prettiest little girl with long black hair and bright green eyes. She had a nasty purple bruise on her neck. It bothered him immensely.

"Amanda, what happened to you?" Donnie's entire demeanor changed. He became worried instantaneously.

"I fell, I'm OK."

The bruise wasn't from falling, He could tell because the contusion was from a grip like force. Somebody was hurting her, and he was going to find out who. No one hurts his students.

He would do anything to protect them. Anything.

* * *

 **That doesn't sound good guys. Surely he means nothing by it, right?**

 **Catch ya next time!**


	8. Chapter 8

Brotherhood

Chapter 8

 **Hello! New chapter time! I really like where this is going. Enjoy! And as always read and review!**

* * *

It was a dark and cool draft in this twisted version of a lab. The swinging headlight flickered on and off, giving off an extremely unsettling vibe to the place. A man was sitting in a chair bolted to the ground, tied to it by rope. He sported a black eye, broken nose, and split lip. His clothes were ruffled and his shirt was torn in three different places. Dried blood covered his chest messily.

His vision was dimming in and out and he heard footsteps. He had enough strength left his body to move his neck up to look up and see his tormentor slowly walking towards him. A tall, looming form was dressed in clothing black as coal. He had a long sleeve jacket with a high collar that encircled his neck. All black pants and black boots with full fingered leather gloves.

The tormentor also wore a mask. The visage was a charcoal colored abyss of complete and utter terror. It sported the appearance of a certain horned Japanese demon. Its face was in a twisted tie between unabashed elation and pure madness. It's open mouthed grin was stomach turning. The worst of it was the mask's beaming wide eyed violet gaze. It was almost as if the tormentor was burning his eyes into the man's deepest part of his psyche.

"I don't know what it is about you humans that I find so irritatingly intriguing. Is it because you simple minded creatures never seem to listen, or is it because when you are reprimanded for your actions, you have the uncanny ability for making excuses?" The persecutor's voice was better suited on a monstrosity from Japanese lore, than on a man. It was obviously modified by a voice changer, but that didn't make it any less frightening. He was speaking as if he was the monster he was portraying. It was deeply unsettling that his tone was gentle and calm…at first.

"You sick FUCK! Lemme go, I didn't do anything wrong!" The man thrashed and hollered in his seat.

"That's where you are horribly misinformed. I have no idea where you humans get this sudden influx of amnesia. The power to instantly forget something, it's amazing." The man in black grabbed the man's arm and began nicking his arm with a massive amount of tiny cuts, which traveled down the expanse of his arm.

"Ah! Please stop! I don't remember doing anything wrong!"

"Do not fret, friend. This will jog your memory." The punisher pulled out a clear bag of salt, and poured it on his arm.

His screams reverberated off the walls of the sick and twisted place.

"Scream all you want; no one will hear your anguish outside of these soundproof walls."

"I d-didn't do anything!" He cried through his screams of terror.

"You know what you did! You MOLESTED an eight-year-old girl! She will never be the same again, you sick bastard. You ripped her innocence away from her, you corrupted her purity! That is something I cannot, will not forgive!" The eyes of the wretched mask burned an angry vermillion as the man in black wrenched the victim by his throat.

The man paused before pleading for his life again. Struggling and finding nothing but futility in the design of doing so.

He knew what he did, and he was a sick and twisted individual for it.

"I did my research, and you are guilty. Onryō shall purify you within the fire." He grabbed the man from the chair and stuffed his mouth with a rag. He tapped a pressure point on his neck and untied the chains. He kicked him in the back of the knee and tied his arms and legs with zip-ties.

He set him upon a metal table as he rolled him towards a burning orange light. The torturer known as Onyrō opened a hatch and the roiling sound of fire danced throughout the area.

The victim's muffled screams of anguish were lost to the fire as he was pushed into it.

Onryō watched as he was roasted alive. His shrill yelling was like a bird chirping or a rooster cawing to him, a normal sound. The horrid stench of burning flesh wafted from the fire and encompassed the lab.

" _Anata wa jigoku de moeru_ " He grunted angrily.

* * *

Donatello was planting a flower when he was approached by April in the yard of his house. She was wearing a yellow leather jacket and black jeans.

"You seem to plant a lot of flowers Donnie." This was indeed true, for he did an array of multicolored flowers. Their rainbow expanse filled his yard with a peaceful aura.

"What can I say, I have penchant for beautiful things. Which might explain why we've been friends for so long. Also I have a lot of soil to work with."

"So what's this little one's name?" April tried to hide her blush. She knew he had a tendency of naming his flowers after people. It was kinda cute.

If only she knew where the soil came from.

"John. His name is John. He was really resistant at first but he bloomed with a little hard work." Donnie's placid face with a smile. The flower pot did indeed have the name John drawn on it elegantly. It was a gorgeous lilac, bright and colorful.

"So we never hung out yesterday. What happened?" Her brow was lifted in question.

"I had some extra papers to grade. It was like murder to get through all of them. We can get some coffee today though. Let's go."

"You know those kids really do love you. They see you as more than just Donnie-sensei. You're like their big brother."

It warmed his heart like nothing else could. He produced his little Donnie smile.

"I know, they're like my little siblings. I'd move time and space just to see them smile." They got in Donnie's 1969 Dodge Charger and drove to the coffee shop.

* * *

Raphael was dressed in a black tank-top and black sweatpants. His crimson hair was tied back in ponytail. He was sweating as if he was in a sauna. His bones ached and his muscles throbbed in agony.

"Yo, can we take a break old man? Ya killin' me over here." Raph sagged over to the wooden floor of the dojo. The kata he was practicing was bloody murder on his muscles.

"Nonsense, we haven't even scraped the surface. The road of a shinobi is a perilous and life-threatening one at every turn. You must be prepared for anything and everything." Splinter' green cane tapped against the floor swiftly.

"I can't be taught shit if I train myself to death, b." The dread headed student complained.

"You have a valid point, Raphael. Ten-minute break."

"Ten minute— " His sentence was interrupted by a frantic knocking on the front door of the bar.

As Splinter went to see what caused the noise, Raph made his way to join him.

What the two saw was a freshly beaten Michelangelo in his pizza delivery uniform, crawling towards the opening of the door. The word 'pussy' was spray-painted in bright red on the back of his shirt.

The young man's usual skateboard and backpack were missing from his person.

The vicious imagery lit a flame in Raphael's soul as his expression darkened to one of pure unadulterated fury. He knew the Dragons did it.

"Mike? You ok, nod or something man, get up!" Seeing this boy get his shit kicked in again, broke his heart to pieces. He couldn't stand seeing him in pain. It somehow hurt him more than seeing Angel in a coma.

"Oh you're my brother by my side, you're my everything. Don't go away." A source of music began to play. Raph realized it was coming from Mikey's phone. The dark-skinned youth picked it from his pocket, he saw the message:

 _I'm coming over, don't move nephew._

And sure enough, the man appeared in the door. His massive build loomed over the two of them, creating a shadow.

He instantly became angry. His golden eyes shone with rage. He wrenched Raph by his tank top and pulled him face level.

"Did you do this?" The tower of a man asked simply with a even yet venomous tone.

The street tough looked at him with no fear in his eyes.

"I didn't have shit to do with this. I've saved his ass once." Raph spoke with absolute conviction.

The giant's expression softened. He turned to the older man with questions.

"Is this true?"

"Indeed, Raphael had nothing to do with this. We found him on the doorstep." Splinter explained casually.

Leatherhead gently put him down and patted his shoulders as if he were handling a pigeon.

"I am sorry, young man. I was angry and blinded by wrath. It's just he's my nephew and I don't know what I would do without him— "

"Aye, it's all good. I would have done the same thing had it been my little sister."

"Mmh." The boy who was still on the floor groaned.

"Oh, my bad." Raphael picked up said boy from the wooden floor and got him to his feet. When he saw his face, he became worried again.

"Fuckin' Christ on a bike." Raph winced as he looked at him.

The poor guy had a black eye and split lip. The worst part was the blank expression in his eyes. Almost as if they had beaten the soul out of him. Hurting Angel was one thing but hurting this random kid who did nothing to them somehow was the last straw.

Leatherhead gripped his nephew in a bone crushing hug.

"I'm sorry Michelangelo. I could've been there if I wasn't— "

Splinter had been quiet this whole time, analyzing the young boy. He reminded him of a soul not yet forgotten. He had his spirit indeed. As did Raphael.

Michelangelo walked into the dojo area of the bar and curled into a little ball of melancholy.

Raph was silent, which wasn't good. It meant he was seething with fury. The old man could feel the waves of frustration and hatred radiating off him. He went to go speak to a Mikey. He sat across from him on the floor.

"You good, Mikey?" The brown skinned youth asked.

Mikey bowed his head with a deep and painful sigh. He drew his knees up to his chest.

That's it, the redhead was gonna be blunt with him, complete honesty. The Raph kind of honesty.

"You ready to stop being a pussy, dude?"

Mikey looked up at him with shocked eyes.

"Don't look at me like that, man. I'm being deadass serious. I don't know where this sudden sympathy and concern for you, a dude I barely even know, is coming from. But it's coming from somewhere. I don't like seeing people I care about getting they shit kicked in."

Mikey's eyes shone with tears.

"You remember what I told you on the train?"

The boy nodded.

"Alright then, quit being a little bitch and stand up for yourself. So what you can't talk. What's that dude name who has the power of the Triforce? Link, yeah that's his name. He can't talk neither. You see him bitching? Nah."

Mikey looked at him with hope, confusion, and awe.

"What? I play video games." Raph scoffed.

Mikey had a shadow of a smile appear on his bruised face.

"So you probably look up to Link, right? So riddle me this fam. Does Link run away like a pussy when he be fighting monsters and shit? No. Does Link act like a bitch when he about to throw hands with Ganon? No. You know Link damn well be ready to die to protect Zelda and Hyrule. I mean to be fair, Zelda head game probably dumb good for Link to be ready to pull up on Ganon in every era." Raph began to chuckle.

Mikey began to laugh as well. Raph felt something when he caused Mikey to laugh. It was so something he could not explain. He felt like he had a connection with him. Like he was cheering his little brother up.

"I mean for real man. I don't know nobody who be that ready to throw hands with a OP ass dude like Ganon. Over a princess, yeah, she gotta be havin' some head game of legends for me to do some shit like that. Little dude got mad heart though. What other sixteen-year-old mute elf kid got enough balls to fight these big ass monsters? Nobody."

Mikey shrugged nonchalantly. Raphael could sense he lifted a weight off the blonde boy's shoulders, and he felt better about doing something positive with his life.

Splinter walked into the room with Leatherhead. Their forms were relaxed and calm, like two gentle breezes.

"Nephew, Splinter and I have made an arrangement. He will be teaching you martial arts as a means to defend yourself. In exchange, you will help him spruce up the bar in your spare time. Do you accept?" His soft yet deep voice made Michelangelo think.

He looked down at his hands, feeling flashes of the beatings he took over the years resurface. The memories of being made mute and every other thing that made him feel invalid. The phantom feeling of happiness, his board, his bag, his parents. He tightened his fists and raised his head.

He gave a firm single nod.

He never felt more sure about anything in his life.

"Wonderful. I want you pick a weapon not only for yourself, but for Raphael as well." Splinter's even tone was hearing one of those anime masters talk.

Michelangelo walked over to the weapon wall. His hands gravitated towards the nunchaku. He felt his vision flickering in and out again. But it was more clear this time around.

He saw his turtle form smiling at him. He gave a cheerful thumbs up. His eyes were the same bright cerulean as they were now.

" _You're gonna be totally radical, brah. I mean you're me, why wouldn't you be?"_

Michelangelo gripped the weapon, and he thought two are better than one, so he grabbed the other pair. He looked down at them and he could the hidden power surging through them.

The blonde boy snapped back to reality and slowly gravitated to the pair of Sai on the wall. He looked to Raphael with curious eyes. He handed them to the street tough and his turtle form appeared beside him. He was sitting there, looking just a tense and brooding as he normally does. The scars on his body signaled that he had gone through a war or two.

But Mikey saw something new and different this time. He looked to Splinter and saw a rat man as tall as he was, standing there right next to him. He had this look in his eyes, like he knew what Mikey had been seeing.

"Good, you have picked a weapon. It is time to begin."

* * *

 **Ooooh, it's getting good! You know what that means...or maybe you don't who knows. See ya next time!  
**


	9. Chapter 9

Brotherhood

Chapter 9

 **What's good? Here's the next chapter. A new player enters the game!**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

Donatello was sitting in the booth of the coffee shop waiting for his tea. April was sitting next to him gazing at him.

"Donnie, you ok? You seem out of it."

"Yeah, just thinking about the kids." Donnie's mind was elsewhere, but he wasn't thinking about the children.

"What do you think of this Onryo character? The news channel won't stop sending me info about him."

"His methods are quite unpleasant and morbid. But I assume that he's doing it with good intentions."

"Murdering rapists and pedophiles are good intentions? He needs to be in prison. Vigilante justice isn't the law, Donnie." April was clearly angry…pretty but angry.

"2 orders for Dogen?" The waitress appeared next to the booth.

 _I will teach you a lesson, Dogen. You want to be a dishonorable failure to this family?! I'll treat you like the bitch of a dog you aspire to be!_

 _Father, don't!_

 _No, Dogs are nothing in terms of honor!_

 _Father, what's wrong with you?!_

 _You. You are what's wrong with me._

"Donnie? Donnie?" A voice was faintly heard.

Donatello's mind smashed its way back into reality. His chocolate-crimson gaze blinked back to her soft face. Their coffee and tea were cold by now.

"You okay, Don? You started breathing heavy and sweating. Tell me what's wrong."

He didn't even realize he blanked out again. He didn't like his real name being spoken. It brought horrible memories back, ones that he didn't want to resurface.

"I think I might be a bit under the weather is all. I'll be fine with this honey tea I ordered." His voice was uneven and shaky, like it was cracking under the pressure of the memory.

April didn't believe him one bit.

"The tea is cold now. What's wrong with that name? It's obviously affecting you."

"Please I don't want to talk about it. It's a very terrible memory that I don't want to speak of." His almond shaped eyes winced at hearing the name again.

* * *

Renet was over at Mikey's house for a home visit.

"Greetings Michelangelo. How are we feeling today?" Her voice was sweet like cherries.

Mikey looked down at the drawing he had made on his whiteboard. It was a picture of Raph giving him as mean noogie. They were both grinning brightly. The rat man was standing next to them with a gentle smile.

"What have you drawn there?" She looked over to his board. "You're drawing the two turtles again, have you had any developments with the Raph person?

As soon as she spoke his name, the doorbell rang.

Mikey went to get the door and speak of the devil, Raphael was there. Raph made his way without being asked.

"Yo, the old man wants you in for training—who's the chick? Did I interrupt something?"

"Hello, you must be Raphael. Michelangelo has drawn you many times. I'm his therapist, Renet Tilley." She stuck out a hand.

The street tough looked her up and down with his acid green gaze in a curious manner. He took her hand and gave it a soft grip.

"Didn't know a therapist could be banging in body and mind, Mikey."

The young woman blushed furiously. Mikey did the same.

"T-Thank you sir. If I may ask, what is your connection to Michelangelo, for the purpose of helping him of course?"

The dread head thought about it long and hard, he bit his lip and tapped his chin for added effect. Raph's vision flickered out to see an turtle wearing an orange mask standing next to Mikey.

"I'm his long lost brother." He spoke evenly.

The two blondes froze in shock.

* * *

A hooded man in his early twenties was perched upon a rooftop.

" **Use the sniper rifle I gave you. It would make this hit so much easier.** " A British voice annoyingly spoke into his comm.

"You know I'm not one for firearms. I'm also not one for sound either. I'm going to use my original equipment, so quit crying." The twenty-something replied, his voice akin to ice: cool and solid. His mission gear consisted of dark clothing something akin to an assassin of Japanese lore. He had a pack of kunai and a small knife as his weapons. He was also carrying a suitcase on his back filled with his tried and true weapons.

He went downstairs and saw that it was flooded with armed hostiles.

" **There are about ten hostiles, meaning there are two on each floor. These blokes are equipped with fifty caliber assault rifles, some serious firepower mate. Watch out. Remember what your master taught you."**

"I appreciate the heads-up, but I already knew that. I'm going in now." The man replied.

A kunai was tossed into the breaker box, making the lights stutter and flicker madly. A smoke bomb dropped in front the two hostiles, making them fire off in fear. It was already too late for them, they dropped like flies.

Another floor, another two dead.

The same happened until blood painted the walls like some sick art show.

When he reached the final floor, he moved through it like a shadow would through a window.

There was a man at a desk, awaiting his men to come and inform him.

When the hooded man appeared from the shadows, the target was calm and even, unafraid even.

"Are you here to kill me? My building is flooded with men. You won't make it out alive."

When the assassin removed his hood, the man's gaze quickly turned to fear as he knew who said assassin was.

His complexion was a mocha color and his hair was a shoulder length river of onyx. A feather was tied to his hair and stroked with four colors: red, blue, orange, and purple. His eyes clashed with their strikingly opposing hues. One of cobalt, the other of amber. His gaze was cold and unnerving as he gazed at his target.

"You mean the ten armed soldiers who are lying dead on your stairs?"

"I can give you money, Chogan. Please whatever you want, I can give it to you." Chogan was Native American for raven. This was the assassin's original birth name. No one spoke of it, that is unless they wanted a vicious mauling.

"I don't want your money; I want your life. You have pulled the wool over the eyes of the public for far too long." The unhooded man opened his suitcase and took out two swords.

"Your life as you know it shall end, may your spirit leave you and be tortured for eternity."

In a breath, the target was beheaded.

As he walked out he gathered his thoughts.

 _May the spirits burn you, evil man._

" **Great work Chogan.** "

"I told you, that name died along with my brothers. it's Leonardo from now on."

* * *

 **Holy shit, guys. He's here, the final brother.**

 **What's gonna happen next?**

 **Stay tuned to find out.**


	10. Chapter 10

Brotherhood

Chapter 10

 **Here we go again!**

 **Lets' get it**

* * *

Michelangelo's mouth was still open as they were walking to the bar. Raph was dressed in his usual all black attire, complete with bomber jacket. Mikey was dressed in a green windbreaker and baggy cargo shorts.

"Look, am I crazy or you seeing the turtle too? What the hell is going on?" Raphael's brow was raised in question.

Mikey simply shrugged.

"Alright, we gotta find a better way to communicate, cause that shrugging shit ain't gonna fly. How come you don't know sign language? Wait I don't know it either. You got some gestures or some shit?"

The mute boy pointed to the street tough, and made a gesture by making his fingers towards his head and scuffing his foot against the ground.

"You think of me as a bull? I mean you ain't wrong. Why though? I scare you or something? Oh it's cause I'm angry and my hair red. I guess I'm like a bull, you fuck with me, Imma serve you the horns." Raph couldn't help but smile.

"But back to the serious issue at hand. You tryin to slide in your therapist ain't you?"

Mikey shook his head violently.

"Can't lie to me bout women, fam. I've had my share of females, and I know what they want. I also know when a dude likes em'. Just cause you the literal silent type don't mean shit. I saw you looking at her like you wanna national geographic." The redhead raised an smug brow.

Michelangelo's face was flush with embarrassment. The blonde boy nodded with a deep sigh. He then pointed to Raph in question.

"Me? I've had a girl or two here and there. There's one who I don't know if I wanna commit to though. I'm a pretty shitty person to be honest. The Dragons probably took your shit to spite me."

The short young man let out a gasp.

"I'm gonna get your shit back though. I promise you that. The old man assigned me as your guardian angel…with a 12 gauge, heh. I gotta look out for you and shit since I got this feeling you're my little brother."

Mikey smiled as they reached the bar.

"Yeah, about the turtle thing. Where you think that shit come from, b? From your street art and shit, it look like your kinda thing. The mystical turtle art and the multicolored paint. I can dig it."

The two young men paused when they heard a noise.

"Meow."

They looked down to see a cat with orange paint dripping from it's small form.

"Aww." Mikey cooed as he bent down to the cat. The small animal looked lost and hurt.

"Aye, leave the cat alone Mike. It might have rabies…wait ain't cats supposed to have four legs and not three?"

Mikey picked up the feline and saw that it indeed was missing a leg. He looked at Raph with puppy eyes.

"No. Don't give me that look. We ain't taking the cat into the bar, the old man might have a heart attack."

The mute boy sighed.

"Come on, let's go bro." Raphael made his way into the bar.

Mikey gazed into the cat's cobalt blue eyes and saw the pain he had suffered. It reminded him of himself.

He then got an idea.

* * *

Donatello was having a discussion with his class about friendship. They all were gathered around him like it was a campfire.

"Children, what does the word friend mean to you?" Donnie's calm demeanor set the kids at ease.

"A friend is a person is someone important to you that you share a bond with." One child answered.

"A friend is someone who you care about more than yourself." Another answered.

"A friend is like family, like a brother or sister. They accept you for who you are and your faults and fill in the missing pieces." A child spoke up.

"That's amazing, class. I'm very proud of you all."

"Do you have a friend, Donnie-sensei?"

"Yes, Ms. O'Neil is my friend. She is very special to me." Donnie smiled softly.

"Ms. O'Neil, do you like her? Like do you think she's pretty?" A girl asked.

"She is very pretty, that is true. If I feel romantically inclined to her or not, is a whole different subject entirely. I care for her deeply, but I worry that one day she will see a different side of me…and I fear she will not like what she discovers."

"You're not a bad person, Donnie-sensei. You can't be. You're our teacher. We love you."

If only they knew.

* * *

April was making her way to her car when a noise alerted her. The emptiness of the park garage was frightening to say the least.

"Who's there? I know kickboxing just in case you get any funny ideas!"

A man with a knife ran from the shadows and assaulted April. She suffered a slash to her arm as she grabbed his arm and broke it. He limped on the ground, but still had some fight in him.

"I'm calling the cops, asshole!"

Before she could even pull out her phone, a spear lunged itself through his chest. A sharp gasp tore from her throat as his blood splashed on her face and torso. Her phone dropped from her fingers, her body shook in fear. The man looked down at the blade poking from his chest and gurgled on his own blood.

A figure in black as ash clothing appeared from the shadows as well. The spear was ripped from the man's chest, causing more blood to splash onto to her. The demonic figure threw the corpse onto the ground. His tall and looming figure made goosebumps appear on her delicate flesh. His horrifying mask set fear in her heart. As he got closer, each step rang in her ears. Her heart was ready to climb out of her throat in mere seconds. He got so close until her back was against the car door and he was inches from her face.

"You're him, aren't you?!" She whispered.

"Come now, we're not going to play the pronoun game, are we?" The figure's ominous and possessed voice made the reporter wince.

"You're Onyro, the cold-blooded sociopath who murders criminals."

"Now now, don't be like that Ms. O'Neil. I just want to talk." He gently caressed her beautiful face by smoothing the back of his gloved leather hand over it.

"You shouldn't even know who I am! I don't want anything to do with you, you monster." The young redhead said it with such force, that he almost believed her.

Almost.

"Aren't you writing a story on me, Ms O'Neil? You don't want to get the words straight from the source? Besides, I want you to understand why I am doing what I'm doing."

"Why should I trust a word you say? You kill people, who says you won't kill me?"

"Do you honestly fathom I would go through all this trouble just to have you see me, tell you my plans, and then kill you in the end? Ms O'Neil, you're as gorgeous as you are intelligent, try harder to use that pretty little brain of yours. Meet me on the corner near the Grand Warehouse."

April thought about it for a substantial amount of time, but when she thought of an answer he was already gone.

And so was the corpse.

* * *

Leonardo was sharpening his twin blades, as he looked at the picture he shared with his brothers.

In his base of operations, it was cold and empty. His heart had felt the same.

A team of four they were. They were a group of honorable assassins.

Vincent, the berserker of the group. He had a quick fuse and an even quicker jab. His Scottish charm, freckled face and red hair were a real hit with the ladies. Dual hatchets were his weapon of choice.

 _C'mon, Leo. Us lads ain't gonna lead ourselves y'know?_

Johnny, the jokester of the team. Full of wit and glee when he got a kill. His Spanish accent made everything he said sound mischievous. His hazel eyes were always lit with life. Rope darts were his favorite things to use.

 _WOO! Did you see that trick I just did, Leo?! Homes was like 'Argh, no my arm's gone!' and then I was all like 'That's what you get, ese!'_

Duke, the intellect of the team. His British voice was always calming to hear. His brown skin, dreadlocks and gap tooth were a nice contrast to the team. His re-curve bow made the self-acclaimed geek squeal with glee.

 _We're brothers, mate, don't ever forget that._

All he had left of them was a colored feather with strokes of red, blue, orange, and purple.

To honor their memory, He used their weapons for exacting vengeance for their spirits.

They were his everything, and they were gone now. He lost them to a hit. He blamed himself. He was their leader, and he felt like he had lead them to their deaths. If he was his brother's keeper, how could he ever lead again? This attack on his brothers, it wasn't some coincidence, it was planned. Someone in their organization, the Tribunal, had betrayed them and he wouldn't rest until he found them.

The lone wolf was without a pack. He shed tears for his fallen comrades.

He was lost.

* * *

 **Questions? Comments? Concerns? Let me know in the reviews? It's gonna be great next Chapter, I promise you that!**


	11. Chapter 11

Brotherhood

Chapter 11

 **This one's gonna be good, hope you like it!**

 **Let's get it!**

* * *

The soft glow of the dojo shone light upon the two young men that were in it. Michelangelo and Raphael were in the stage of practicing their kata. Raphael's was very aggressive, such as his personality was. He put a lot of energy and force in his attacks.

Michelangelo's…was a bit a different. He just couldn't get it down right. He tried everything from meditating all the way to humming mantras in his head.

"Michelangelo, what seems to be the issue?" Master Splinter tapped his cane against the ground.

The mute bowed his head and sighed. He made a gesture for confusion.

Raphael had already finished his set, so to pass time he turned on the radio.

(A/N: Here's the song that's playing: /KGBGjeD-mmA)

Mikey paused and tapped his foot to the beat. He began thumping his hand to his thigh.

He then discovered something interesting.

He started his kata and timed each strike perfectly.

"Is Mikey fighting to the beat? Like he got a rhythm to it or something."

The street artist flourished into a break-dancing routine. His natural athleticism and flexibility played a heavy part in his newly discovered fighting style.

Mixing work and play, his martial arts and dancing synced in harmony.

Because fighting was a lot like dancing, except you were trying to hurt someone…. very badly.

"Yo, that's pretty dope Mikey. But let's see if you can do that fancy shit against an opponent."

With that said, Raphael lunged at the shorter boy…and his arm was caught by two legs as he was flipped over. The raging youth lunged at the smaller boy again with wild strikes and swings, Mikey evaded them with the tempo of the beat, moving with the song like how water would move through a river. Flowing with the notes like liquid, this specific song triggered a memory as he saw his turtle self imitating next to him in spirit. It was almost like they were in tandem, busting out moves to the beat. Michelangelo performed a b-boy flare to knock the angry bull on his back.

Raphael's face was greeted by Michelangelo's smug grin as he looked down at him.

"You got lucky is all. Don't expect that shit again." The street youth kicked back up and turned off the music. He turned to see his turtle self interacting with Mikey. This whole turtle shit still fucked with him.

Splinter was intrigued by this discovery. He was more intrigued by the small lump formed by the blonde boy's windbreaker.

A small noise came from it. A small orange lump of fur rolled from it.

"Michelangelo, what is exactly is a cat doing in the dojo?"

Mikey sheepishly scratched the back of his head as he gave a nervous smile.

"Damn it Mikey, you brought the damn cat in here?!" The brown skinned youth grumbled.

The middle aged Japanese man looked to the small cat and its missing leg. Then back to Michelangelo's puppy eyed gaze.

He sighed deeply.

"You can keep it, but if it disturbs any of the customers, it goes out and it stays out. Do we understand?"

Mikey ran to hug their sensei. He was ever so grateful as he had never a pet before. He felt as giddy as a child in a candy shop. The phantom feeling of happiness was slowly but surely becoming whole again.

It gave Splinter a phantom feeling, one of fatherhood. He couldn't stop himself from grinning.

"What's with the smile, old man? You don't usually look this happy." Raph was practicing his boxing techniques against a punching bag.

"Nothing, it's just the two of you remind me of two of my sons."

"Funny, in what way?"

"You have the same spirit."

Mikey tilted his head in question. What could that mean?

The small cat clumsily made its way over to Raphael.

He gazed at it with a mild scowl.

"Keep him away from me, man. Don't turn me into the dude who axe kicks the fuck out of a cat." Raph mumbled.

Mikey gasped and picked up the cat in slight fear. The feline proceeded to lick his cheek. The short boy laughed and rolled around on the floor with his newfound cat.

Now all he needed was a name.

"Michelangelo, back to training!" Splinter cried.

* * *

April sat in her car outside the warehouse contemplating her life choices. It was around nighttime now, the cold air seeping into her bones.

Why was she about to interact with a cold blooded murderer, why wasn't she at home drinking coffee or talking to Donnie?

She's really worried about him, what's going on inside that galaxy sized brain of his?

It must be bloody murder for her soft-hearted geek of a companion.

The redhead gripped her steering wheel and got out of the car.

"Remember April, you need this for s story."

As she opened the garage door, the freezing temperature shocked her for a second. The moonlight casting its shine in the otherwise dark warehouse.

That's when she saw his shadowy figure, his visage was very much indeed horrifying still to this day. His black ensemble and mask struck chords of fear into her heart.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up, Ms.O'Neil." His digital warbled voice set the hairs of her skin on end.

"Let's get this over with. Don't try anything funny, Onryo." Her tone was shaky and uneven. She walked cautiously with trepidation in each step. She eventually saw that a man chained to a chair with copious amounts of blood staining his clothes. She noticed that his fingernails and toenails were peeled off and small cuts in thousands littered his body. Was that remnants of salt in them? Just what kind of torture had he put him through?

When Onryo turned to face her, she saw that blood painted his mask as well.

"I wouldn't dream of it. Now do you know why this poor bastard is in my oh so gracious care?" He pulled the man's head up by his hair forcefully. He was sporting a two swollen eyes and fresh scars on his cheeks.

"Why?"

"It involves rape mostly but we'll get to that."

"That's sick."

"Absolutely, which is why trash like this shouldn't be allowed to even breathe the same air as us."

"Justified or not, murder is still wrong. You killing them just makes you as worse as them." April put down her files and sat in a chair.

"You really think that, huh? What about the women and children and hell even men these bastards defile? What if you were raped, or a person you care deeply for was molested, hmm? How would you feel then?"

Silence.

"I can't answer that."

"That's what I thought. But better yet, how's about we hear it straight from the horse's mouth?" He proceeded to pick up a bucket of freezing cold water and splash it on him.

He woke up in a frenzy, shaking in his chair. He looked up to see the black shadow of a man and a girl in a yellow leather jacket.

"PLEASE help me! This man is sick! Call the cops, he's torturing an innocent man—"

His spiel was brutally interrupted by the sound of metal cracking against his jaw. April looked to see that the butt or pommel of the shadow's spear was covered in blood. He was breathing very heavy, almost as if he was angry.

"Don't you dare lie to this woman about being innocent! Tell her about what you did, Trevor!"

"I haven't done anything wr—"

Another vicious crack of steel whipped across his face.

"TELL HER!"

"Please—"

He kept striking him until she intervened.

"STOP!" Her face was flush with fear and agitation. Tears were welling in her eyes.

He abruptly paused, looking at her. He slammed the spear on the ground.

"She seems to have compassion for you, however misguided it may be. Tell her what you did or I won't care about compassion, I will keep hitting until you die."

"I-I was drunk last night and I didn't know it was a little girl."

A brutal smack to the chin was given to him.

"Do not lie to me. Tell her the truth." Venom was dripping from his voice.

"I was desperate, okay?! My wife left me and I had just gotten out of prison. I needed relief! I didn't know she was ten okay?!"

"You raped a ten-year-old girl because you were desperate? You were lonely so you went prowling the streets searching for relief like some sick predator?"

April began to walk away when the shadow man grabbed her by the arm.

"You're not leaving just yet, Ms.O'Neil. I need you to see this."

For the life of her, she didn't know why she stayed.

He took out the man's phone and showed her images of children pornography.

"This man needs to be cleansed of his disgusting ways. He will die, there's no avoiding that, how he will die is up to you."

"How can you give me a choice like that?"

"Simple, either he dies here and now or he dies a slow and painful death in prison. Since you and your precious morals need to be satiated, you can give him the 'lawful' way of death, rotting in a jail cell. Decide now or he will die here in front of you." To further deepen his point, his spear's blade was perpendicular to the bastard's neck

"He NEEDS to go to prison, its where he belongs. This vigilante justice needs to stop. You should quit murdering people before I report you to the authorities."

"If I need to go the police so badly, you would've given told them of my existence and reported me already."

"How do you know I haven't?" Her voice was cautious.

"I know you haven't because the minute I appeared into your life, you didn't call 911 immediately…or at all actually. That's because no matter how twisted you think this is, you'd do the same thing in my situation."

"What happened to you, who hurt you? Who drove you to hunt down pedophiles and rapists and murder them?"

"That isn't for you to know. But people—filth like him are the reason why I do this." His voice wasn't calm or venomous. It sounded…sad, sullen almost.

"Hope you get to these sacks of garbage before I do, because I won't be so merciful next time."

"I don't like this, there has to be a better way to do this then murder!"

"Killing them solidifies the chance of it not happening again. I will not have the innocent suffer. The evil must be condemned for their sickening ways."

April was afraid of him clearly. But she could see some humanity in him. It was almost as if there was a light in him shrouded around darkness.

He took out his phone and dialed a number.

"Hello, I would like to report a crime. Yes, I have the evidence, I would like to remain anonymous. It's at the Grand Warehouse. Thank you officer."

As he hung up, she gawked at him.

"You called the cops? How are you going to explain his bruises and injuries?"

"I don't need to, he already had bruises before I got a hold of him. The girl managed to hit him with a large stick."

April looked at the man who began to cry.

"You're going away for the rest of your life, be lucky you're not dead. If it weren't for this young woman here, you'd be burning in hell."

Onyrō looked to April and nodded dismissively.

When she nodded back, he was gone just like that, no evidence of him even being there.

* * *

Leonardo was sitting in a coffee shop in England analyzing a book he had kept during his adventures with his brothers. Their master who was known as the Ancient One, told him to go to the 'city of wind' and look for 'the man who is the thorn of trees'

He had one of those figured out already, not the other.

The young man drank his coffee in peace when he got a very strange feeling.

Like he was being watched.

He turned his head slightly and his theory was confirmed.

A man in dark clothes was sitting two booths down from him, tapping his fingers methodically.

The assassin was hoping he wouldn't have to murder someone in this coffee shop. Their food was good and their coffee was even better.

He didn't want blood on them, he didn't have his swords with him so he'd have to make due.

A waitress walked up to Leo's booth with a happy step.

"Would you like some more coffee, love?" A bouncy and carefree brunette spoke to him.

She was quite attractive, it's a shame he didn't time for it.

"Yes, I would. Thank you."

She couldn't stop looking at him and he could tell she thought he was handsome.

"You have gorgeous eyes, love." She said with a deep blush.

"I appreciate the gesture, but you could do me a favor actually?" He grinned slightly.

She leaned in attentively as she poured him another cup of the roasted drink.

"Could you leave your tray here? I'm gonna need it for a second."

Appropriately, she looked bewildered.

"Ok sir, here ya go." She sat the tray down slowly.

"Thank you, here's a tip for the amazing coffee." He slid her a hundred-dollar bill.

Her facial expression was one of shock as she reluctantly took the money. As soon as she left, a dagger came flying in his direction. He caught it with deft hands, and the assailant charged with pinpoint accuracy. Too bad Leo was quicker. He blocked a knife slash with the metal tray, which broke on impact.

Leo lead them out of the front door and into an alleyway where there was a knife to hand fight. The assassin just couldn't seem to get a hit on Leo. With every well timed dodge, Leonardo took a step back and placed a strike onto his arm, paralyzing each part systematically.

The killer took one last swing; his own blade was turned against him his throat was mercilessly slit.

Leonardo dropped the corpse and checked to see what he had one him.

What concerned him was a picture of him.

What was worse was the tattoo on the back of his neck.

A red symbol…almost like a foot.

* * *

 **How did you like it?!  
**

 **A/N: Each brother will eventually meet one another, just gotta give it time, y'know. I developed Mikey with a break-dancing fighting style he doesn't really have a form like Eddy Gordo from Tekken meets actual ninjutstu. Raph will get his big time and so will Leo. I wonder what I'm gonna do with Donnie though? Any suggestions? Tell me in the reviews? See ya!**


	12. Chapter 12

Brotherhood

Chapter 12

 **What's poppin? I know I haven't updated in a bit and that's my bad, that's only because I've been dealing with some family stuff. But now that I finished with school for the summer, I can update more frequently!**

 **We gon do somethin' a lil different this time around.**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

In a corporate building sat a man at the highest floor. The moon burned its brightness through the window. He was the CEO of the said building; the company was a pharmaceutical one. Its name was Saki Corps and it was biggest company in Chicago and it have saved many lives.

The man who lead it was named Oroku Saki, with a strong jaw and strong build. His hair was black as a shadow and his eyes were a mahogany brown. He was a prestigious forty-two-year-old from Japan with riches beyond belief.

But all of it meant nothing to him.

Because he couldn't get the voice out of his head. This wretched, evil cacophony of words. It told him to do evil and maddeningly violent things.

You see, Oroku wasn't a bad person, he was just…a bit of a complicated man.

That isn't to say he didn't understand humanity. As he looked at the picture of his dear old friend Hamato Yoshi, he remembered the good times they had shared.

He hadn't seen his dear friend in years, he should visit him sometime.

But he couldn't…wouldn't visit his old friend in this broken mental state.

 _ **You were always weak, Saki. You don't remember, do you? Splinter did this to you! Blame him for my creation. Heh, even if I appeared because of natural causes, you'd still be pathetic.**_

"Shut up, you vile creature! It was an accident, he didn't mean it!" Saki slammed his fist on his desk.

 _ **Why that's no way to talk about yourself, Saki. That was no accident! Shen should have been yours. Splinter took her from you.**_

"I am nothing like you! I have humanity. Tang Shen was his wife, I was just jealous." The Japanese man clutched his head in grief.

"Mr. Saki? Are you okay?" A feminine voice alerted him back to reality. The CEO looked to see his secretary, who was almost like a daughter to him. She had dark hair like him, except her eyes were hazel, just like his friend Yoshi's.

"I'm fine Karai. I just need my medicine is all." He sighed in pain. This voice had plagued him for so long and just wanted to get rid of it.

She brought his tray of pills and food and sat it on his desk.

"Thank you, Karai. Where would I be without you?" He spoke softly.

"I don't know sir. Remember we have that meeting with the board about the alternative cancer treatments at four." She smiled.

"Thank you for reminding me. Also, let the staff know they have the weekend off. It'll give them time to spend time with their families and the people they love."

"Yes sir." Karai left the room and left Saki all alone…with his thoughts.

 _ **The only way to get rid of me is to become me, Saki. You know what you must do. He will find his lost sons again. They are the answer to all of this. FIND THEM!**_

"SHUT UP!" Oroku gulped down his pills and water to temporarily silence to the voice in his head.

* * *

Yoshi sat in silence with a cup of sake in his hand. The cold hardwood floor His face was disheveled and his eyes were red from being intoxicated and crying. His bar was the only thing normal he had left. After his beautiful wife Tang Shen died in a car accident. His daughter Miwa left him because she couldn't deal with his drunken bouts of sorrow and despair. That was when she was sixteen, she was at least twenty-four now.

He had no one to call family.

"I'm sorry, my dear love. I have failed our daughter. I have failed you." He kept hearing the sound of her small form flat lining in the hospital all those years ago. It broke him and shattered his bundle of hope.

He grabbed his cane sword and unsheathed it. His rat form appeared beside him.

" _You are making a grave mistake."_

"I'll finally join you in the clouds, Tang Shen. I can finally stop disappointing our daughter. I love you."

" _Our sons will be lost and we not be able to form as one again if you do this. This city and our home will suffer without them. The evil of the past will appear again and wipe all of it away in their wake. Do you really desire that?_

Just as he was about to plunge it in his stomach, a knock on his door interrupted him. He didn't care as he pressed the blade's tip to skin, pricking it. Another knock interrupted him again.

He threw the blade to the ground and opened the door.

"What?!" He snapped.

"Father?" Her hair was black just like her mother's and she had his deep mahogany eyes.

His face softened onto seeing his daughter, she had grown up into a beautiful young woman, and he didn't get to see any of it. It felt like centuries since he had seen or heard from her.

"Miwa? What are you doing here?" His voice sounded small quiet, nothing like the gentle yet strong river he normally sounded like.

"I know it's been a long time since we've seen each other, but I needed to know how you were doing." She walked into the dojo area and sat down.

"I thought you wanted nothing to do with me? It's been six years, Miwa. Just move on, forget about me."

"I can't do that, father. I haven't been there for you when you needed me and I'm sorry. I was only thinking about myself. I never thought about how mother's-"

"Don't, Miwa. Please don't." His eyes were beginning to water.

"Mother loved us both and when she was taken from us, it turned us into shells of what we once were. I'm so sorry Papa. I never thought about how much her death affected you." She embraced her father as hard as she could, clinging to him like when she was seven.

They both shed their sorrowful tears.

Then the young woman noticed the blade sitting on the ground.

"Father, what were you doing before I got here?"

The middle aged man paused.

"Father, please don't tell me you're were going to kill yourself."

There was nothing he could say.

She just clutched him tighter and cried into his arms.

* * *

Saki was in his loft, twisting and turning in his bed.

 _ **GIVE INTO ME, SAKI!**_

"No, I won't! I'm not a monster like you!"

 _ **You keep saying that like you're better than me, allow me to show what you really are.**_

A piece of fractured memory played in his head.

" **Splinter, you're a pathetic rat. You really think you can stop me?! I will destroy you and your four sons, so I can end this nonsense once and four all!"**

 **A man in metal armor growled in a booming voice as he stuck a sai into the arm of a crimson masked turtle.**

" **THAT IS IT SAKI! If we are going to perish, we will take you with us!"**

" **Let us see, rat."**

 **The two factions charged at one another.**

The memory ended.

Saki began to convulse as he beat against his head, but it was futile.

The voice had taken control. His eyes went white.

The man who was known as Oroku Saki was gone.

The man in his head was calling the shots now.

"Now that you are not annoying me with your silly morals and screams. It is time to for us to do what we came to do.

The man walked over his closet and pulled out a box.

The box was opened, which was contained metal ninja armor, complete with a sharp helmet.

"It is time for us to assemble. War in Chicago is about to begin.

* * *

 **It's time. Everything is gonna fall into place now.**

 **Is you ready tho?**

 **Peace. See ya later.**


	13. Chapter 13

Brotherhood

Chapter 13

 **Look, I know it's been a while and I'm so sorry. I really need to set up a schedule, but with work and stuff, I'm just too tired to do anything. My bad fam.**

 **I can promise you that I'll have least two to three chapters each month...no nevermind. One to two chapters each month, k?**

 **I will have a couple questions I'll need you guys to answer for me at the end, k?**

 **Aight, enough talk.**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

The persona that had plagued Saki was simply known as The Evil. Oroku didn't wanted to give it a name simply for the fact that he didn't want to acknowledge him. He appeared many years ago, when he was young and stupid. Saki and Yoshi were best friends, brothers even. Then something as trivial as a woman came in-between them.

Her name was Tang Shen; she was as gorgeous as she was kind. Yoshi loved her and Saki couldn't get that through his head. He wanted what wasn't his.

There was a tournament coming up and Yoshi had had enough of Saki's pining after his woman.

So he taught him a lesson through battle. Their fists and legs collided in the tournament. Yoshi had beaten him and he was declared the victor. Saki couldn't lose so Yoshi gave him a concussion by kicking him in the head.

Brutal as it was, Yoshi felt that it needed to be done. It hurt to do it to his brother, but he wasn't about to have him think he can just do whatever he wanted.

Months later, that voice appeared in the back of Saki's head, leaving little dark thoughts.

 _ **Saki, you know what he did to you.**_

They eventually turned into loud torturous shouts of anger.

 _ **YOUR HEART IS WEAK!**_

It went on like this for many years, his mind falling apart and putting itself back together simultaneously. Now that he was a businessman, he couldn't let his affliction get in the way of his goals and aspirations.

So he put on a façade, successfully fooling his employees that he was fine.

But he wasn't, dear God he wasn't.

"Let the men know our plan is nearly done. Now we play the waiting game." Saki's other half spoke into the phone with a finality.

* * *

Leonardo was sharpening his sword as he spent his time pondering on what that foot symbol meant exactly. The forests in Europe were especially quiet around these times. It gave him time to think. He was wearing a dark brown jacket and black jeans with simple boots.

"How's it going guys? I know it's been a while since I came to visit. I've just been busy with things."

Leonardo smiled at the thought of his excuse.

"Duke, you'd be really happy to hear that your bow and arrow is being used quite well, ya big geek."

"Johnny, that rope dart is a real useful tool when you need to clear a room. Not as quick as you with it, but I get the job done."

"Vincent, your tomahawk is one the best projectiles I've ever used. Nothing stops a guy like an axe to the back."

Leo began to wholeheartedly laugh…until that very same laughter devolved into tears.

You see Leo was in the area of the graves he buried his brothers in. Their trademark weapon being their tombstone, rocks being their coffin.

"I'm so sorry, guys. I couldn't save you."

An arrow for Duke, a rope dart for Johnny, and the other tomahawk for Vincent.

What was sad was that the ebony haired assassin dug his own grave…literally.

A sword was stuck into the rocks of his empty grave. He felt he should have died with them.

"I will see you again, my brothers."

"Actually, we can let you see them now." An unknown voice came from nowhere.

Leo immediately grabbed the bow and arrow. He tugged back three arrows from the string.

"Show yourself, or I start shooting. One of these is going to hit somewhere."

Men in dark green uniforms appeared from the trees. It would be hard to see them with the naked eye since the area is green as well.

But Leonardo's trained eyes could see them quite clearly.

They resembled ninja of the past, with the very same foot symbol Leo had been studying, emblazoned on the right of their chest. It was fitting that they chose colors to match the area they would be in. A tactic Leo was taught in his assassin upbringing.

"Who are you and want do you want? Can you not see I am mourning?" Leo's tone was dangerously close to anger.

"We are here to end your existence. Just like we ended your brothers." One of them quietly spoke.

How dare they taunt him with the murder of his family?! Those he held dear to his heart! He kicked open his suitcase roughly and set his feet firmly.

Leo's fingers tightened around the notches of the arrows. His stare was cold and determined.

"I will avenge their spirits by putting yours in the ground!"

The three arrows fired off in lightning quick succession.

The five ninja charged forward throwing down a smoke bomb, throwing shuriken in their wake. Leonardo could only dodge most of them, the few ones he didn't grazed his form.

The assassin dropped the bow and shot forth a rope dart, wrapping it around the neck of one ninja.

With a flip over the target, a brutal cracking sound was shortly heard after.

Leo dodged a sword slash and kicked up his tomahawk, with a quick toss of his arm, it was thrown into the face of a ninja. As he grabbed the arm of the ninja who was armed with a sword, he shifted it until it ended up in another ninja's throat. Blood gushed from the wound as the enemy choked on his own blood.

Breaking the arm of the sword ninja and performing a judo flip, he crouched and delivered two swift but brutal jabs to the heart, stopping it.

As the final ninja stood, Leo kicked up his own twin blades and grasped them tightly.

"Why did you kill my brothers?!" A longing was present in his voice. He was desperately searching for an answer he might not even get.

"Because he needed it to be done."

He?

"Who is this he you speak of?! Tell me or you will perish!"

"Do you think I fear death, young man? In fact, I welcome it." The ninja charged forth with his sword. Leonardo did the same as they slid past each other. The grass below them was cut in half.

The assailant stumbled as he clutched his side. Like a shadow, Leo appeared next to his side, gripping his mask and ripping it off.

What he saw a heavily scarred face with one grey eye.

"Heh, you and your brothers will not survive his reckoning."

"My brothers are already dead, you killed them remember?" Leonardo's face was covered with dried tears and the blood of his enemies. It created a twisted visage.

"I didn't mean your old teammates."

"Who are you talking about?!" Leo screamed.

"Heh, screaming like a child when you don't get your way? How adolescent of you."

"I will not ask you again!"

"Why don't you ask your father, the rat?"

The ninja then proceeded to grasp Leo's sword and slit his own throat.

As Leo cursed loudly, he noticed something was off. He got this feeling of familiarity of the mention of a rat father. He put his weapons back in his suitcase and cleaned himself of grime and blood.

He then saw a turtle crawl across the ground. Odd, this wasn't an area with any water nearby. What struck a chord in him was the fact the turtle had a stroke of blue, red, purple, and orange on its shell.

"Are you a spirit, small turtle?" The fact that Leo was Native American caused him to have a strong belief in spirits ever since he was a child. A turtle in Native culture mean perseverance and protection.

"I shall follow you wherever you may lead me then, wise spirit." He followed the turtle out of the forest.

As soon as the turtle stopped, he looked up and didn't even realize he had followed it an airport.

"How I not notice this? Is this where you want me to go, small turtle?"

As Leonardo snuck on the plane by pretending to be someone else. He noticed the small turtle vanished right in front his eyes.

What he knew was that the plane was headed to Chicago. Where he might find his answers.

What he didn't know was that scattered in seats around him were men in black business suits and red ties. All of them had the very same Foot tattoo on the back of their neck.

* * *

 **Did y'all enjoy that?**

 **Alright question time?**

 **1) Should I give Mikey a voice-box? Like y'know Bumblebee from the Bay-verse Transformers? He talks with his radio. I was thinking the same thing with Mikey except some kinda talk-box that says different lines from movies, anime and video games. Let me know.**

 **2)What should I do with Leatherhead and Renet? I'm kinda not feeling to whole therapist thing anymore. I liked it better when she was a librarian. Leatherhead is Mikey's adopted uncle and I wanna incorporate him into the story more. Any ideas?**

 **3) Finally, How would you like to see the brothers meet for the first time? I have an idea already but here are some options.**

 **a) They meet at the bar and have to fight off enemies.**

 **b) They're in jail.**

 **c) Their spirits connect and they find each other with their hearts.**

 **Pick one!**

 **P.S You guys are giving me all the praise, but the person you should be thanking for helping me make this possible is Koalagriton on Tumblr! She had helped me the first story I scrapped and indirectly paved the way for this one! Seriously go hug her and tell her I sent you fam!**

 **Peace! See ya next time!**


	14. Chapter 14

Brotherhood

Chapter 14

 **SUP! That new-new for y'all. The next chapter that's after the next one is gonna be the one of the BIG ones! You guys must be glad. This one gon be good!**

 **Enough talk.**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

Donatello was just cleaning himself up from planting some flowers. He put his straw hat back on to shield the sun from his eyes.

"There you go, Sam. You were really persistent, but you finally bloomed. Good job little guy." He watered the plant and hummed a little tune. It was a subtle burgundy color and was small.

Tapping his feet, he noticed that one of his students, who just so happened to live in the same neighborhood as him, walked up to him.

"Hey Donnie-sensei! I didn't know you lived near me!" The small child gave him a fist bump. Johnny was a ten-year-old boy with bright eyes and dark skin.

"Johnny, Hello. It is good to see you!" Donnie's smile was honest and bright.

"You water plants in your spare time? Isn't that what girls do?"

"That's not entirely true, Johnny. Although gardening is very calming and soft in nature, that doesn't automatically mean it is feminine in nature."

"But flowers are girly, Donnie-sensei."

"Well look at it this way, if girls like flowers and 'girly' stuff like that, wouldn't having this garden full of beautiful flowers be essential to obtaining a pretty girl?"

"You mean like Ms. O'Neil?" Johnny had a smug grin on his youthful face.

"I suppose so, Johnny. But our bond isn't so black and white like that. There may be some form of mutual attraction between us, but that doesn't mean that we are in a relationship. In fact, it would be odd for us to switch into something like that so quickly."

"But you do like her, right?"

"Of course, Johnny. She's my childhood friend. As far as romantically, possibly."

"You know, you keep saying that stuff, but I think you're making excuses."

That put Don through a loop. He forgot that he taught these children for a second, proving they were damn near as smart as he was, however naïve they may be.

"What do you mean, Johnny?"

"I think you're afraid to show her the real you." The small boy was very serious.

"What do you mean? This is the real me." Donnie scoffed.

"No, not the you that we know, but the you that only you know."

Don's eyes were widened at that statement, coming from someone so young.

"Anyway, see ya at school Donnie-sensei!" As the boy walked off to go play with his friends, Donnie looked at his flower garden and realized he needed some self-reflection.

The next day at school, Donnie is in his usual suit and tie, interacting with the children. He was having a good day until something concerning happened.

* * *

Mikey was playing with his cat around the house. The small kitten was adorably clumsy with it missing a leg and all.

Leatherhead was busy cooking food for them. The smell of food drew them both to the kitchen.

"Michelangelo, how long has it been since you've been to work?" His calm voice rumbled throughout the kitchen.

The young mute had to think about it. He put up six.

"Six days, don't you think it's time to go back? You've been saving up for those two consoles and that new board you've wanted for quite some time now."

His uncle was right; he hadn't seen Mr. Antonio in a while.

"So it's settled, you're going to work tomorrow?" Leatherhead's eyes peered into his nephew's as he said that.

Mikey's face was contorted in confusion and then nodded yes.

He looked down and noticed that his small kitten was purring and nuzzling his leg.

"What are you going to name the little one?"

Mikey looked at the orange cat and wrote down the word: Klunk.

"Klunk, how fitting as it is a cute and clumsy little thing."

* * *

Donnie was currently sitting in his classroom after hours, sitting with his student and their parent.

"Mr. Washington. Marissa isn't doing so well on her quizzes. Is there something wrong going on at home?"

"No, why would you think that?" His tone didn't seem very convincing. His light brown eyes were stern and his body was burly. He seemed off.

Donatello tapped the bottom of his pen to his jaw rhythmically. His red-eyed stare was calculating. The stress of taking care of the kids with the effort that he did, his light brown hair became white, giving him the appearance of a ghost. His tall looming stature and pale skin didn't help either.

"I don't know, there are body markings on her legs that concern me. When I ask her what's wrong, she gives me a look that screams help me?"

"What are you sayin'? That I'm hurtin' my own damn daughter?"

"I didn't say anything of the sort. Just please make sure that Marissa being taken care of properly, is all I ask. I'm concerned is all. I don't want to tell you how to raise your child."

"Then don't. We done here?" The tone in Mr. Washington's voice was icy.

"Yes sir, we are done." Donatello's fingers grasped around his mug until his knuckles turned white. He didn't feel very well; he didn't feel anything but worry.

The look on Marissa's face told him something else entirely. He knew his students. Her small fingers twiddling and her big green eyes screamed for help."

It's a shame he couldn't do anything about it.

* * *

April was sitting in her chair writing her report on the infamous Onryo. He had sixty-two kills and counting ever since his appearance. She just wanted to know why he was doing this, or what caused him to do it. She decided that she needed some downtime. She was dressed in a yellow pajama top and small shorts.

She went to go get some tea from the fridge when her lights began flickering.

"The hell is wrong with these lights? I JUST paid the light bill!"

"Aww, were you thinking about me? How sweet of you." A digitally warped voice cooed.

"HOLY SHIT!" April threw out an elbow, only for it to be caught by his fist.

"Nice, your form is a bit off though."

As she turned around, she was greeted by none other than Onryo himself. The shadow stood ominously, like an entity of some sort.

"The HELL are you doing in my house?!" The young woman screamed.

"I just came to talk, Ms. O'Neil."

"At two o' clock in the morning?! Give me one reason why I shouldn't call the cops on you for breaking into my house?!" April's face was rightfully red with frustration.

"Simple, you left your window open. Also because someone is looking for you."

"What? Why should I believe you?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Why do you think that man tried to kill you a couple weeks back?" His digital voice still shivers to her spine.

"He was just a mugger." Her voice was shaky at best.

"He was much more than that. A mugger would have been sloppy and uncoordinated. He was calculative and precise. Which is why I stepped in."

"You stepped in and put a spear through his chest! Why did you save me, anyway?"

"I don't quite frankly know. There's something alluring about you." The killer got close…too close.

"Could it be your intelligence? Could it be the way your heart climbs into your throat every time you see me, or could it be your attractive form?" The killer's voice dropped an octave as his mask's gleaming violet eyes captured her gaze.

Goosebumps appeared on her flesh, she couldn't deny there was some strange pull towards him.

She snapped out of it and gently pushed him away.

"Why are you doing this? Killing these people?"

The masked man sighed in irritation.

"How many times are you going to keep asking me that damn question! Fine, you want to know why so fucking bad?!"

The man in black unclipped his jacket and took off his shirt and armored vest.

His entire upper body was littered with puncture wounds and faded scars that healed over time. Some even looked like burn marks. What shocked her was his pale skin. He looked like corpse with that flesh tone.

No, it wasn't like she was peeking at his abs…or pectorals…or anything of his sculpted body.

"This is why. The person I once knew as my father did this to me. People like him are the reason why I hunt wastes of life like rapists and pedophiles and end their existence." His tone was icy and ran her blood cold.

"There has to be a better way than murder, Onryo!"

The tall and looming man exploded.

"THERE IS NO BETTER WAY! Why can't you just accept that there is no good left in some people! Do you even know what my father did to me?! He RAPED me! For two whole years of my life, that's why I knew! Do you know what that feels like?! Having the person who is supposed to love you and cherish you stick his dick inside of you every single GODDAMN night?! My mother knew the entire time and did nothing. Her sixteen-year-old son apparently meant nothing to her."

Tears welled in April's eyes. She shook with sadness

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know. That's horrible. W-what happened to your father?"

"That bastard's dead. I beat him to death with a staff when I turned eighteen. My mother died in her sleep."

"There's light in you, Onryo. I can see it, it just needs to be reached. You're a good person. Just misguided."

"Do not patronize me, Ms. O'Neil. Good person? Are you saying that because I remind you of a dark side of your precious Donatello?" He scoffed.

She froze at that statement.

"How do you know-"

"Calm down. I have no reason to harm him. I know how much you care for him. However naïve he may be, I can see why your feelings for him are strong. I have been keeping tabs on him. Seeing as he is a caretaker of elementary children, It, dare I say, warms my heart to see him take care of them as if he were their parent."

"Feelings? What makes you think that?"

"Come now, Ms. O'Neil, that face you just made tells all."

Onryo put back on his jacket and armor and centered himself.

"I'll be seeing you again, Ms. O'Neil, under very different circumstances."

With that he was gone like he was never there.

 **OH SHIT! Know you why he does the things he does.  
**

 **Question time!**

 **1) Favorite part of the chapter?**

 **2)What do you think Onryo looks like?**

 **3)Do you want me to do a big chapter centered around Raph next or nah?**

 **Glad you enjoyed it, see ya next time!**


	15. Chapter 15

Brotherhood

Chapter 15

 **What's good y'all? Here's the new update!**

 **It's back to Raphie-boy!**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

Raphael was sitting on the couch at Casey's home, when Angel sat next to him. He was thinking about the recent few weeks that had passed. The old man, Mikey, Angel, Mona. The Dragons. He had recently stripped his dreadlocks of most of the red color and only left the ends red. The rest of his hair being its normal dark brown. He did it so it wouldn't remind of his past as much. The color was important to who he was, who he tried to be, and who he needed to stop being.

Red stands for anger, rage, fury…wrath, things that he was known for. Passion and Love were emotions he wasn't too familiar with.

"Hey bro, how you feeling?" Her bright smile was a pure juxtaposition to his somber scowl. That look pissed him off, how she was so oblivious to the entire ordeal.

"I ain't really in the mood." Raphael's acid green eyes were dead; no emotion was present in them as he gazed at her.

"What's wrong Raph? Did I do something wrong?"

"How much do you remember?" He simply asked. He needed to ask, because damn it, it hurt him deep down.

"Of what, Raph?"

"Everything."

"I remember you and Casey and…who's that old guy?"

Raphael blanched.

 _No._

 _No. No. No_

 _NO!_

He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. How could she forget Sebastian? He helped raise her when her parents didn't want her! She made so many jokes him being Alfred (which he basically is, even looks like him). How could she forget?!

"You're doing that thing again! Raph, what's wrong?! I am supposed to know who he is?"

"YES! Sebastian took care of you! He might as well be your damn dad! All those memories of him, GONE! First Mona, and now him?" Raph stood up and shouted, he couldn't contain his anger. "The fuckin' problem is that Hun's bitch ass knocked ya fuckin' head loose when he hit you with a TRUCK!"

"What? Raph you're scaring me!"

"YOU SHOULD BE SCARED! You ain't remembering shit! YOU AINT GETTING' BETTER! You forgot Mona and fuckin Sebastian! Who knows how long until you forget me or Casey or even your own motherfuckin' name?!"

"Master Raphael! I believe that is enough." Sebastian put a firm hand on his shoulder. He could feel that the dreadlocked young man was practically steaming with rage. There was a burning beam of wrath in his acid green eyes.

"But-"

"Master Raphael. Please, just go and get some fresh air. I will tell Miss Angel everything."

Raphael's breathing was heavy and rough. He decided to walk towards the door when it rang.

"Raphie? You okay man, I heard yelling?" Yelled Casey as he practically ran downstairs.

Raph lifted a quizzical brow at that statement.

"No, I ain't alright."

When Casey opened the door, his face turned sour.

"Raphie-boy, you got a visitor." His tone seemed unsure.

When Casey pulled the door out fully, a very _unwelcome_ face greeted Raphael.

"Hello son." He knew that voice from anywhere, one that he tried to tear from his memory. He saw her acid green eyes gaze into his, and he tried his hardest not to yell obscenities.

The young man's face turned cold.

"What, you're not going to say anything to your mother?"

* * *

As Michelangelo entered his place of employment, He looked into Mr. Antonio's eyes and saw something foreign…sadness. He knew what it was because he had felt that way for a long time.

When he became mute, when he got his ass handed to him by the Dragons, when his girlfriend of two years, broke up with him the day he was told he wouldn't ever speak again.

That sadness resonates through people, like a kindred spirit.

"Ah, Hey Mikey boy. How you feelin'?"

He shrugged his shoulders lightly. He then pointed to the owner.

"Me, Ah I'm alright I guess." He gave a small smile…but it didn't reach his eyes.

He was lying straight to his youthful face. Mikey could tell. The sag in his shoulders, The cold air around him. He was not okay.

The street artist was going to find out why.

"Where's ya skateboard and bag?"

Mikey gave a gesture by throwing up the Purple Dragon gang sign. He only knew it because they threw it up so many times after they'd kicked his ass twice.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, kid. Those assholes need to stop terrorizing this damn city."

Michelangelo was never one for violence. But he couldn't just sit here and watch the Dragons ruin this city. Michelangelo had his whole life's work in that bag. His paint cans, sketches and even pencils. It hurt to not have something he had his whole life.

Training with Master Splinter would help him, and maybe he could help the old man too. Mikey was tired of being weak and pushed around.

"I got a job for ya kid." Mr. Antonio's voice pushed him out of his thoughts.

Mikey looked up with an inquisitive gaze. His bright blue eyes shining in wonder.

"You're really good with those paint cans,"

Michelangelo's face went pale as he tried to gesture 'What? Me? Noooo.'

"And yes I know you do graffiti. It ain't rocket science, kid. You're lucky you left some cans over here. So how's about you spruce up this place a bit, eh? Show the customers a new fresh image. Give 'em somethin' pretty to look at."

Pretty, eh?

The boy beamed a bright smile.

Mikey could do better than that.

* * *

Raphael's stoic expression was hiding his black, repressed fury. His fists tightened and his blood shifted to an icy slush. Raphael and his mother stood near the gate of Casey's mansion.

"I just want to talk, son."

 _You ain't gon never be shit, just like your fuckin' drunk father._

"We ain't got shit to talk about." Raph's tone was final as he proceeded to turn back home.

"I'm sorry, son."

Raph paused and turned to face her. His entire body shook with rage; he couldn't help himself.

"You sorry? For what, lettin' Pops die, or abandoning me?"

"Your father did that to himself, Raphael."

" _Raphael, you're my son and I love you so much. Your mother is just a difficult woman is all."_

" _But dad, she's mean and we barely see her nowadays."_

" _I know son. I know."_

Raph grounded his teeth against each other. Was she fucking kidding him?

"YOU DID THAT SHIT! You was out here suckin' dick and shit and cheatin' on him! He stupidly loved ya bitch ass and all you did was take advantage of him? He was all I had left, and you took him from me."

" _Momma, what's wrong with dad?"_

" _He's just asleep, boy."_

" _Dad always snores when he's asleep. Why isn't he snoring?"_

"Raphael, you will NOT talk to me that way. I am your mother!"

Raph picked up a brick and threw it in her direction. The brick crumbling against the fence was enough to startle her.

"Mother?! Is that what the fuck you think you are?! Nah, a mother would take care of her son. A mother wouldn't leave her nine-year-old son at home at two in the morning, while she at the club shakin' her ass and shit. A mother wouldn't have a fridge empty at home and beat her son when he asks the neighbor for food. A mother wouldn't treat her son like shit just because he looked like his dad!"

"I was there for you!" The lady had tears streaming down her face.

"There for me? Bitch, you weren't even at his fuckin' funeral! You looked at his dead body with disgust when I came home from school. You pushed him to the edge and he drank himself to death. You know how it feels to go to school and get teased cause your dad just died? That's why I lashed out and beat the shit outta people who talked bad about him. You didn't comfort me for shit! No matter how good my grades, no matter how good of a kid I was, no matter how much I wanted you to LOVE me, I was NEVER ENOGUH FOR YOU!"

The woman broke down and tried to hug her son.

" _Pops, you gotta stop drinking!"_

 _The small child took the flask from his father._

 _The look his father gave him was on of despair._

" _Your mother wasn't the woman I thought she was."_

"Fuck you, bitch. Get the fuck off my brother's property." Raphael walked away, venom in his voice, it was practically dripping. Sebastian opened the door.

"Don't walk away from me, Raphael! Please!"

"Bastian, if you don't call the pigs right now, I'm gonna turn into that piece of shit person she calls her new husband… and cave her fuckin' face in." Raph's fists were shaking and he was trying his hardest not to grab his brass knuckles and beat the fuck out of her.

* * *

Raph sat at Mona's apartment in her bed. The moonlight peeking through her blinds.

"I see you switched up your dreads. Red tips are actually pretty nice on you."

The young man was silently thinking about his father.

"You ok, _Rojo_?" Her tone was obviously concerned. She looked at her companion and saw the sepulchral expression on his face. In short, he wasn't happy.

"I saw the fuckin' bitch I came out of today."

Oh no. The air in the room became tense. Raph _never_ talked about his family.

Mona's chocolate eyes dimmed and her face softened. She put an arm around her friend.

"Raph, I'm sorry you had to go through that." Her Spanish accent was soothing to his ears.

"I don't want you doin' that shit, Mona."

She became confused.

" _Que_?"

"I don't need you feelin' all sorry for me and shit, that pity bullshit just pisses me off." Raph's voice was even but angry. As he made eye contact with her, her soft brown burned into his jade ones, her face was scowling.

"I'm sorry for giving a shit about you then, Raphael." Mona was heated as she left her room and slammed the door.

The street tough sighed in anger. He always managed to fuck something up, didn't he? This entire week just went to shit because of what happened. Raph could never do anything right.

A knock from her window shook him from his thoughts. As he looked up he saw someone he hadn't seen in a while.

Slash. He didn't look good.

Raphael opened up the window and let him inside.

Slash flopped on the floor, clutching his ribs. His face was marked with ugly bruises, the purple spread across his tan skin. His spiked green hair was messy and disheveled.

The worst was that his golden eyes were void of their mischievous flair, all he saw was pain.

"Slash, the fuck happened to you man?!" The now dark haired street tough ran to his friend's aid.

"The gang fuckin' jumped me because I didn't know where you were, _cabron_!" Slash hissed in pain.

"I'm sorry bruh. But I'm done with the fuckin' Dragons."

"Wha? We're like brothers man. How can you just leave us like that?"

"Nah, me and you are homies. Fuck all the rest of them motherfuckers. You should get out too, with me. Start your life over and shit. I'm leavin' the Dragons before I kill that big bitch Hun."

"Woah, I know he's a _pendejo_ , but killin' him?"

"You remember Angel? She got hit by truck. I recently found out that Hun was the bitch ass driving that truck."

Slash's scarred face blinked in shock.

"Slash, you not seriously hurt or nothin' are you?" Raph was concerned for his friend, seeing as they grew up together in the gang.

"Nah, man. Ain't nothin' I ever experienced before." Slash waves it off with an unconvincing shrug. Somehow, that made Raphael sad.

Raphael throws him a first aid kit from Mona's nightstand just in case.

"I'm gettin' you out, man." The dread head says Slash leaves.

He sits back on Mona's bed with a sigh.

Little did he know, Mona had came back to the room when Slash entered.

* * *

 **What did y'all think?!**

 **Question time!**

 **1) I wanna start naming the chapters, should I?**

 **2) Should Raph carry out his revenge or give it up?**

 **3) What should Mikey paint in the pizza shop?**

 **Gimme your thoughts on the chapter and answers for the questions! Peace!**


	16. Chapter 16

Brotherhood

Chapter 16

Silence of the Lambs.

 **What's crackin' y'all?! That new-new for ya.**

 **I'm naming the chapters from now on. Everything is slowly coming into play. Patience Daniel-sun.**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

Blood.

That's all he saw. There was just so much. The man was bleeding and he couldn't stop the flow of it. It was on the floor, on the counter…everywhere. He couldn't call the ambulance because he couldn't talk correctly.

His breathing patterns sped up as he saw the men in black disappear. His chest felt like it was caving in on itself. His hands were stained red and his tears were mixing in with the white of a uniform shirt. The red reminded him of the red in the water that day.

He remembered back at the beach that day, where his throat was torn open by that shark. It was a miracle he even made it out alive. He was choking on his own blood then and it feels the same now, only with air.

He could've gotten in there quicker, if he wasn't damn weak, so damn useless.

So damn _defective_.

Now Mr. Antonio is bleeding out in his arms.

And to think they were just having a thoughtful conversation mere minutes ago about his artwork. The little talks they had were special, and now he was gone.

All because of him.

"Kid…I ain't got m-much time." Antonio gripped his hand tightly.

Mikey shook his head fiercely, uselessly putting pressure on the stab wound above his kidney.

"K-knock it off kid, it ain't gonna save me. Listen, you ain't useless. Y-you're s-so much more than that…aggh. Make somethin' of ya self, protect the ones you love and keep em close to ya heart."

Michelangelo's stare was blank as he looked to his dying boss…and friend.

"There's a safe in the back, I want ya to have it. I was gonna give to my son…but you might as well be the next best thing. Tell Leatherhead I said hi….I'll see ya soon kid." The grip on his hand lessened with each word.

With that, he faded away.

Chills ran down his spine as he stopped breathing. His chest tightened and his throat constricted itself. Clutching his hair, staining it with blood, the boy scratched at his arms until his fingers bled.

Panic surged through his chest as he spoke the first word he had said in years. It sent agony throughout his vocal chords but he didn't care. He needed to voice his despair.

"WhHhyY!" A scratchy, broken version of the word bellowed through the pizza shop.

He remembered the men in black. They looked like thugs but with knives and such, he couldn't get them out of his head.

They broke his spirit and mind.

He sobbed over Mr. Antonio's corpse.

He felt alone again.

* * *

Mona looked at Raphael with sad eyes.

She had no idea what he was going through. Then again, he never told her anything.

"Raphael." Her soft tone of voice startled him.

"Jesus! How long you been there, girl?" He gazed at her with questioning eyes.

"Long enough to know what you're going through right now."

"Well then you'd know I ain't in no mood to hear any bullshit right now."

"Raphael, this might be the last thing you want to hear right now, but why do you keep avoiding your feelings?"

"We really going through this shit again, B?"

"Yes. Get up, We're going for a drive."

Raph just glared at her.

* * *

Soon, they were in the car rolling down road.

"So why are you all moody about being in a relationship with me, Red?"

"A bitch broke my heart by fuckin my best friend. You happy now?" They stopped at a red light and she gazed at him.

His stare penetrated her senses. It's like she couldn't tear her eyes away from his. A car horn was the only thing that brought her back to the real world.

"Raphael, why was Slash in my house when you know I told him not to be inside it?" She berated her friend, her tone like a stern parent.

"I let him in, I needed to tell him some shit. He was hurt so I gave him one of your med packs. That was it really."

"Why are you still with the fuckin' Dragons?! You know what road-"

She honestly thought he was still with the Dragons after what Hun did? She didn't know him as well as he thought she did.

"Fuck the Purple Dragons. Fuck em' all." Raph grunted in anger. "I swear to god the next chance I get I'm gonna put that motherfucker Hun in the dirt."

"Raph what did I tell you about-"

They stopped at a crime scene. It was covered with police tape. Dread filled his body as his acid green eyes widened.

"Mona, stop the car." The dark-skinned young man's voice was filled with worry.

"What's going on?" Her fingers tightened around her steering wheel.

"STOP THE FUCKIN' CAR!" He yelled. She tried to stop him as she slammed the breaks. He hopped out the car and sprinted towards the crime scene. His breath stopped as he gripped his dreads in his fists.

A cop stopped him as he reached near. It was the pizza shop.

"The fuck happened?" Raph's spoke hurriedly as he was put on edge.

"Someone was killed-"

He shot forth like a bullet as cops tried to hold him down. His anger and fear was getting the best of him.

"Get off me! My little brother works in there!" He was tugging his way through the cops with force.

"We can't do that sir." Their tone was authoritative and he hated it. He hated cops already and this wasn't making it any better considering the situation he was in.

"FUCK THAT!" Raphael ran through the cops and tore through the police tape.

Blood.

That's all he saw. There was just so much.

A massive pool of drying blood was behind the counter as he hopped over it. He was becoming scared; he didn't fully understand why he cared so damn much about Mikey…but it didn't matter to him.

"MIKE! If you here, make you a sound of somethin'!"

He didn't hear anything.

"MIKE! MIKEY!" He ran around the shop in a frantic pace. He ran his hands through his dreadlocks, wanting to tug them out of his head. He felt sick to his stomach, the bile wanting to climb its way out of his throat. It brought him back to the time of when his dad died. He was sitting there, expecting his dad to come home through that door.

He never did.

He almost lost his mind until he found him huddled in a corner, covered in blood.

"MIKEY!" He ran to his side immediately. He could finally breathe again, for only a bit because he was worried as all hell.

"What happened?! Are you ok!? Where's Mr. Antonio—"

He paused as soon as he saw the boy's face. His blue eyes were blank and his hair was ruffled. He looked malnourished and frail. The young man felt the bleak and somber aura that Michelangelo was drowning in.

It hurt him more than he was afraid to admit. Mikey just lost a person he cared about because he was too weak to do anything.

He paid for it by having Mr. Antonio die in his arms.

Then something happened that Raph wasn't expecting.

At all.

Mike latched onto him like his life depended on it. It was a desperate grab as he buried his wet face into Raph's black shirt, staining it with salty water.

The street tough froze. Hugging was something he wasn't used to, even in a situation as dire as this.

When he heard the blue-eyed boy sob, it broke his hardened heart. Those sobs were compared to something like having your puppy run over. He sounded broken and crushed as he bawled his eyes out. He emanated depression and sorrow, and it was rubbing off on Raph.

The next thing that happened was also something that Raphael wasn't expecting.

The brown-skinned young adult hesitantly wrapped his arms around the crying boy. His vision flickered as everything faded into black. When he opens his eyes again, he realizes he's holding a giant turtle with an orange mask wrapped around his mouth.

His vision is somewhat hazy…like this is a memory or something.

What freaks him out even more is that fact this all seems too damn familiar. He looks down and sees that he is also a green turtle with a red facemask. His skin is thick and scaly and green. He had scars riding up his arms and several cracks in his…plates? He didn't know what to call a turtle chest.

The location they're in looks like a dojo…in a sewer?

When he speaks, it sounds foreign to him, like he's speaking through someone else.

" _Mikey, it's gonna be alright, man. Father's always with us."_ His voice sounds sad, like it didn't come from his own mouth.

" _It hurts, Raph. It hurts so much. He's gone, bro. I can't believe he's gone Raph."_

He had never heard Mikey speak before. But somehow his ears lead him to believe that this big ass turtle, was somehow Mikey.

Jesus, Mikey sounded like such a kid.

His voice was startling to him because maybe this is what Mike would have sounded like had he not lost his voice.

When the smaller turtle looked up at him, his eyes were as bright as they normally were, albeit filled with anger and hollowness. The pain in his voice didn't sound like he had lost Mr. Antonio. It sounded like he had lost someone else. Someone much more close to him.

Raphael knew that pain.

When he had lost his father, it crushed him.

He still didn't fully understand this turtle stuff but it was beginning to feel all too real.

His vision faded back into the real world as Mikey was staring at his lost expression.

"Mike, I'll take you home, man. This place ain't too good a vibe on you right now."

As Raph picked up Michelangelo's limp form, he noticed that the shop was half painted. But the one thing that stuck out to him was graffiti of Mr. Antonio's face…and a giant foot symbol in blood splattered across it.

* * *

 **What did you think?!  
**

 **Question time**

 **1) What do you want to see next with Donatello and the infamous Onyro?**

 **2) I'm thinking Raphael and Mikey bond to truly strengthen their friendship/brotherhood. Any ideas on how they could bond?**

 **3) Leonardo, I'm planning a fight scene with him again. Corporate Office fight with a defector of the Tribunal?**

 **Or Leonardo meeting Oroku Saki?**

 **Lemme know in the reviews? Peace!**


	17. Update

Update

Yo guys. I know it's been a bit but I'll be updating soon. You're probably a little pissed this isn't a chapter, lol. There's some stuff we need to talk about.

First off, let's talk about Raphael. I empathize with this most because I'm a black guy as well.

I made Raph African American not because he's angry or violent. I made him African American because in most iterations, he has a Brooklyn accent. So statistically, the majority of people who live in Brooklyn are African American. Him being from the streets is out of necessity as he was lost. Him talking like how he does is because of his environment.

Initially, I wasn't going to add the gang thing but, it made sense. However stereotypical it made be.

Also I made Donnie Japanese not because he's smart, but because he's a peaceful and gentle person with a warrior's heart.

Mikey…is well Mikey. I made him a white kid to further enforce the surfer archetype. He's a Graffiti artist because art is important to him, it just makes sense.

Leo is pretty much how you all imagined him anyway. He's Native American because of the whole spirit thing and because he's a born warrior.

Just to let you know I'm updating soon.

Also, I need help. Any ways I can improve or you could give me some constructive criticism on this story? Seriously, feedback would be appreciated.

Peace.


	18. Chapter 18

Brotherhood

Chapter 17

Streets of Rage I

 **What's crackin' yall?!**

 **So heads up, the aura of this fic is goin' in teeny bit different direction. Imagine if the TMNT were treated like a hip-hop anime. Something along the lines of Afro Samurai or Samurai Champloo. To make it a bit more exciting.**

 **Expect record scratches, hip-hop artist and lyric references. Oh and songs playing like soul/jazz and trap, from old school to new. Also expect a lot of hip-hop infleunces from Asian artists like Trikuza, Year of the Ox, and others. The turtles are ninjas after all.**

 **WARNING: The 'n-word' shall be used in this story. If it offends you that bad, leave this story NOW. Don't like, don't read, I don't give a fourth of a fuck.**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

Donatello sat at his desk, tapping his fingers. He was alone, only accompanied by his thoughts.

They were thoughts are anger and disgust. He knew that Mr. Washington was abusing his own daughter. He could read him like an open book. It filled him with thoughts that he shouldn't have.

But he didn't want those things on his conscious. His hands were running through his white hair with frustration. He knew if he confronted Mr. Washington and things became physical, it would not go well for either of them.

He fiddled with his glasses as his crimson-eyes gaze penetrated his paperwork. Donatello knew he couldn't do this if wanted to keep his job.

He decided to call up an…associate of his. And although he didn't agree with his methods, he had got the job done.

* * *

Onryo was in his twisted lab, sharpening his tools and humming the classical tune of Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven.

Onryo was preparing himself for a special mission, one which required he have more weapons than his usual fare.

This involved human trafficking…the cargo being children and teenage girls.

His enemies, the Purple Dragons.

It sickened him to his core, the fact that low-life thugs would use innocent kids as some form of…currency to be traded.

But before he makes his way to the mission, he needs to make a pit stop along the way.

The dead of night appeared.

With a flash of lightning, a human shaped object was outside his window.

Mr. Washington was sitting his recliner chair, watching some show on sports.

His lights flickered.

"The hell? I just paid the light bill!"

A shadow with horns appeared right in front of him.

And just like he appeared, he was gone in an instant.

"The fuck? This beer is probably way too strong."

"Maybe you should stop drinking, Mr. Washington. It'll help you curb your misplaced anger towards your daughter. Humans like you sicken me." A distorted, warbled voice spoke near him.

As he tried to reach for his shotgun underneath the chair, something cold and metal edged near his throat.

"Move a centimeter, and I'll turn this room into a Jackson Pollock painting with your blood."

"Who the hell are you?!"

"Who I am is not important, what you should be worrying about is why I'm here." He turned around to show the man his form.

The tall looming shadow in all black stood like an apparition. The mask's glowing purple gaze burned into his brain. The spear pressed against his throat only added more fear.

"I can kill you right now, you know. You're hurting your daughter for what? Some sick and twisted fantasy that you can't do to your wife? Or is it because she's not sociable enough for you?" The distorted voice had venom dripping from its words.

The man tried to reach for his gun only for the sickening snap of his arm to be heard.

"ARGH!"

"You didn't seem to be listening to previous presentation I had about not moving, did you? You're lucky I only broke your arm."

"Who the hell are you to get into business that ain't yours?! FUCK!"

"Same reason why wastes like you are hurting innocent children, because I can."

The apparition threw him out of his recliner and began beating him with his fists, the brutal sound of bone hitting flesh reverberated throughout the room.

The man feebly tried to fight back by grabbing the Onyro's face, only for his hand to be broken.

"You will pay for the sins you have wrought upon your daughter." With a savage head-butt, Mr. Washington was dazed, stars spinning in his vision.

He saw the shadow's violet gaze burn a bright crimson, like a burning laser into his soul.

"Your terror will no longer go unpunished." Onyro grabbed his spear and laid it against his throat, ready to end the man's life.

"NO, DON'T!" A small voice shouted.

He turned to see a girl with black hair and green eyes. Her small form in the shadows reminded him of why he did what he did. The shadows around the girl reminded him of himself. A innocent child drowning in a world of sin.

"Please, don't kill him!"

He dropped the spear and kneeled down to the girl. The mask's eyes were lit a calm and somber blue. His demeanor changed entirely, like a gentle wave. His arms circled around her.

"It's okay, little one. Your father can't hurt you anymore. You're safe now." The digital voice was soothing in nature. "I'm here to save you from this bad man you call your daddy, little one."

"Are you here to help me, Mister shadow man? You don't seem like a scary person underneath that costume."

He was stunned, he froze. What was she talking about? If you really analyzed his form, you could see that he was shaking. It was like she could see through him somehow. She should be deathly afraid of him.

He had to get out of here…. now. He composed himself and picked up his spear. He turned to the little girl one last time.

"Call the cops, little one. It's for the best."

He put a finger to the mask's curved obsidian teeth.

"Shh."

The lights flickered back on and he was gone just like that.

* * *

Raphael was staring at Michelangelo's somber form. The inside of Mikey's room was just how he expected it to be.

Full of graffiti and anime.

The little orange fur ball that he came to knew as Klunk was curled up his lap. He looked at the paint cans and figurine of some inline skate wearing kid with green goggles and headphones.

There were kung-fu movie posters and ninja props on his wall.

Only things that were missing were his backpack and skateboard. Raphael felt responsible for what happened to him.

"Mike,"

The small boy turned his oceanic blue orbs towards the street tough, and the waves of sorrow shot inside his heart like a bullet.

"Look, I know how you feelin' right now, my dude. The shit sucks and it's hard to get it out ya chest man."

The little three-legged cat nuzzled himself into his lap.

"Meow."

"C'mon Mike. I don't think Mr. Antonio would want this for you man."

Michelangelo's brow creased as something akin to anger appeared on his features. He was staring at Raphael, almost as if to say 'how would you know about Mr. Antonio would have wanted!?'

The blonde boy got up and grabbed the taller young man's bomber jacket in a feeble attempt to be angry at something other than himself.

"Mikey, look man. I'm here for you bruh. Never forget that. What do I gotta do to make you feel better, my dude?" Raph's acid green eyes were filled with concern.

Raph looked at Mikey's boombox. The boy's phone was hooked up to it, which consisted of a wide variety of tunes.

Maybe Raph could expand it a bit more.

So the street tough hooked up his phone to the boombox and played his tracks from it.

The gritty yet conscious sounds of Kendrick Lamar's _Money Trees_ came on.

When the beat dropped, Raphael began reciting the lyrics with Kendrick.

" _Me and my niggas tryna get it, ya bish_

 _Hit the house lick: tell me, is you wit' it, ya bish?_

 _Home invasion was persuasive_

 _From nine to five I know it's vacant, ya bish"_

Michelangelo couldn't help but bob his head to the track. His feet began tapping and his hand starting patting against his thigh.

" _Dreams of livin' life like rappers do_

 _Back when condom wrappers wasn't cool_

 _I fucked Sherane and went to tell my bros_

 _Then Usher Raymond "Let It Burn" came on_

 _Hot sauce all in our Top Ramen, ya bish"_

Raphael was going through the motions of making gestures of the lyrics themselves. He was having his fun, it was clearly affecting Mikey as well. They began dancing to the beat. Then Raph's favorite part of the song came on.

" _Be the last one out to get this dough? No way!_

 _Love one of you bucket-headed hoes? No way!_

 _Hit the streets, then we break the code? No way!_

 _Hit the brakes when they on patrol? No way!_

 _Be the last one out to get this dough? No way!_

 _Love one of you bucket-headed hoes? No way!_

 _Hit the streets, then we break the code? No way!_

 _Hit the brakes when they on patrol? No way!"_

As the song neared its ending. The mute pulled up a video of his favorite dance crew known as the Kinjaz. The group being from Mikey's hometown of LA, it made sense he went to a many of their performances. But the whole ninja anime aesthetic was pretty dope too.

He showed Raphael a video of their "Fear None" performance. He was pretty amazed to say the least. He was enthralled by their nuances as well as their overall technique.

"Yo, that's pretty lit, bro. These dudes into anime and shit too? They be hitting every little part, including the lyrics? That's crazy."

Eventually, the two copied the "Humble" part down to a t. It was the most fun either of them had in years. The dread-head had a genuine ear-to-eat grin, as they laughed like old friends.

After their dancing shenanigans, the two watched TV in Mikey's bed.

"What the hell is Steven Universe? I ain't really feelin' this shit, Mike. I mean gay female space rocks and some cotton candy ass lookin' lion and a little chubby kid with a rock for a bellybutton? This bet not be no trash ass cartoon."

Around two hours in, his entire opinion changed.

"Yo, why y'all gotta treat my homie Steven like that, fam? He ain't doin' nothin' to nobody, dog. He just tryin' to live. "Raphael shed a tear.

"Yo Amethyst, just smash Peridot already and quit pussyfooting around each and other and shit. That shit hella annoying, B."

"Sadie, fuck Lars. He don't deserve the shit you do for him. Go fuck with somebody who appreciates you. He a pussy punk bitch anyway."

"Connie. Homegirl, you need to scoop up Steven already. Garnet is actually my spirit animal, yo. Pearl need some dick or pussy or somethin', maybe that'll loosen up the damn spear she has up her ass. She all bitchy and shit cause Rose was fuckin' Greg and not her twig ass."

After Steven Universe, they moved on to Samurai Champloo.

Mikey and Raph were hype during the fight scenes and laughing at Mugen's banter with Fuu and Jin.

"Mugen is my type of guy, kicking ass and not givin' a fuck bout who his way. That's why I fuck with this shit man. The hip hop elements ain't too bad either. Nujabes on some next level shit."

The vibration of Raph's phone ringing interrupted their comradery.

It was from the old man.

 _Raphael, bring Michelangelo. Your attendance is needed. Now._

"Looks like we gotta head over to the bar. Wonder the old geezer wants now."

* * *

Leonardo was walking off the plane, the men in business suits following him. If he wanted this to be quiet, he knew exactly how and where to do it. He just needed to get them away from any innocent people.

The track of Vangrancy from the Samurai Champloo OST by Tsutchie played through the speakers of the airport lobby.

Leo gripped his suitcase tighter as he clicked it open.

* * *

 **So Read and Review, that whole shabang. How you feel about the hip-hop elements being brought into the story, let me know!**

 **It's about to turn up next chapter!**

 **Get ready!**


	19. Chapter 19

Brotherhood

Chapter 18

Streets of Rage II

 **WHAT'S GOOD?!**

 **I got that new-new for y'all. It's gonna go down next chapter.**

 **One more step closer to two more brothers meeting for the first time.**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

Leonardo was walking to the back of the airport when he heard music playing from behind him. The dark brown of his jacket blended him in with the other citizens as he was walking by. His onyx hair and brown skin made him look like everyone else. The airport of Chicago was crowded with people.

 _For once, I'd like for someone to at least try to not kill me._

The men walked faster, so he did. He couldn't let these innocents get hurt, so he did the next best thing.

Using his training, he scanned the area for any openings that he could hide in. He found a bench with about three people on it. As he sat on it, his senses told him that the men in suits were looking for him.

Making a causal posture, he got a good look at the men. They looked like Yakuza. Bodies full of tattoos and dyed hair and cocky attitude. They all had the same foot tattoo on the back of their necks.

He decided to make his way towards the men. With lightning quick succession, he stabbed his fingers onto the pressure points on the walking men, somehow making it seem like he patted them on the shoulder.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry. They must suffer from some form of narcolepsy. I'll check for their breathing patterns guys." He said to the crowd of people as he searched their bodies for any info he could use.

He found four pictures. One of him and other three young men.

 _Why are they hunting us?_

He slyly slid the pictures in pictures in his jacket pocket.

As he looked behind him to see if anyone was suspicious of his actions, he saw a giant turtle-man flicker into his vision. He appeared to have a dark blue samurai menpo mask over his beak and blank white eyes.

 _This must be some form of a guardian spirit watching over me._

When he looked back to the pile of men, they appeared to be wearing black ninja uniforms with the same red foot symbol he had been so used to seeing.

He also realized he wasn't in the airport anymore. The environment had changed to a NYC rooftop. The lights were bright and the city was bustling with life.

When he turned back to see the spirit, he saw three others with white eyes. They all seemed to be wearing dark blue ninja hakama. One of a stocky build with a stern look in his eyes and a red demon mouth guard over his beak. The other was taller than them and was an intellectual. He had purple wielding goggles and a black scarf over his beak. Another with a jovial air and a youth-like innocence. His beak was covered by some bandana of some sort with all their colors painted on to it. He was the smallest of them all.

" _Leo? The hell are ya gawkin' at?!" The stocky one exclaimed._

" _Nothing, I'm just thinking about Father is all, Raphael." His own voice replied._

" _Yeah, Dad wouldn't want us to be all down in the dumps about him, yo." The youngest somberly gazed at him with a hurt expression._

" _Mikey's right, Leo. When we face Shredder, we do it for Father." The tall turtle added._

As Leo's mind reverted back into reality, he realized he had many people looking at him like he was crazy.

"Sorry about that, I spaced out. They're fine. Their vitals are all good." They're vitals weren't good. The thugs were actually fading because the pressure point Leo hit had cut off their circulation. Meaning they were going to die soon.

Leo didn't want anyone seeing him kill them, so he did it quietly and discreetly.

He shouted for ambulance to pick them up.

Now he needed to find this 'man who is the thorn of trees', so he left the airport and called a cab.

* * *

Michelangelo and Raphael were currently sitting in the dojo of the bar.

"What's good, old man? What you call us here for?" Raphael questioned his sensei.

"Two things we need to address, your training and Michelangelo's loss of ."

Raph looked at his small brother figure with concern. He was two heads taller than him so he had to literally look down at him.

Mikey pulled out brown paper bag from his green windbreaker. What was in it was concerning. Michelangelo spilled it out on the floor.

"Holy shit! How many racks is that, Mike?!"

"Language." Splinter corrected him.

The savings that Antonio gave him was the entire shop's savings. He had entrusted him with all that because he thought of him as a son.

It was a lot to take in honestly.

"This at least eight racks if not more! What you plan on doin' with all this green, Mike?"

He hadn't the slightest clue to tell you the truth.

Mike had sketches in his backpack, but alas he didn't have it with him.

Raph got a call from Casey as he was just about to walk out.

The look on his face was not one of humor or happiness.

"Yo, What?! Case, quit playin' with me, fam."

A pregnant pause filled the air.

"I'll be over there in a lil bit."

As Raph hung up, he looked to Splinter with rage in his eyes.

"Gimme me the Sai, old man." His voice was even, hiding the anger in his heart. His fists were tight and shaking.

"You're not ready, Raphael."

"I don't care, I need to find the motherfuckers who hurt my sister and put em in the dirt!"

"You will do no such thing! What kind of teacher would I be if I let my student go out half trained?!"

"Gimme the fuckin' Sai!" Raph screamed with fury.

Splinter walked over to the weapon wall and grabbed the Sai from it.

"Fine then. You want the Sai? Use your training and take them from me."

Mikey shook his head and stood in between the two of them, only Splinter to move him to the side. What the graffiti artist saw was a giant rat man in a red kimono fighting a turtle wearing a red mouth guard.

" _This is what your brother wanted Michelangelo, this is what he will get."_

Splinter took a fighting stance, strong and stable. Raphael lunged, only to be put right back on his ass.

"Get up." The old man sounded cold, almost heartless.

He stood up and threw out a jab, which deemed futile since Splinter caught his arm with one of the Sai and hit him with his own fist, knocking him over.

"Get UP."

The street tough got up again and did a left feint into a leg sweep, only for his master to intercept it and kick him into the weapon rack.

The clatter of the weapons banged against his body.

"GET UP!"

Splinter threw the sai down.

"If you're going to get yourself killed, you will not do it under my tutelage." His tone was final.

"You don't fuckin' get it, old man! I can't have nobody hurtin' people I care about and think they can just get away with it! You don't come from where I'm from and let niggas like them fuck you over!"

"I had every chance to get vengeance on the people who played a hand in my wife's death! The difference between you and I is that I did not let it CONSUME me!"

"Fuck this, I'm outta here man!"

Mikey tried to stop him when Splinter put a hand up.

Raph stormed out when Sebastian pulled up in the bright red truck of Casey's.

"Get in, Raphael. You need to see Miss Angel."

* * *

Onryo was driving to Ms. O'Neil's house. He wanted to give her a visit, if not to tease her a bit more.

What? He found it fun.

When he pulled up in her driveway, he noticed something was off immediately.

She wasn't there. Her front door had been broken into.

The sense of dread the filled the serial killer was one of a great magnitude.

One of his contacts in his phone had 15 missed calls from them. He gripped his steering wheel tightly as he sped off towards the docks. He knew the Dragons had taken her because only they would do something so savage as this.

* * *

Raph walked through the door only to see Casey sitting on the couch with a pained expression.

"What's goin' on with Angel, bruh?" Raphael paced around the room frantically.

"Look Raphie," Casey tried to explain but the street tough pushed past him. He practically ran to her room.

Only to find her sitting on the bed as if everything was normal. When she looked up at him, her eyes didn't show any sign of recognition.

"Raphael?" She slowly spoke to him.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Yeah, sis? You good?" He kneeled down to her with comfort in his eyes. Everything was gonna be okay. He knew it.

"Sis? I don't look anything like you. I only know your name because those two guys told me." Angel's face held a incredulous expression.

Or so he thought.

 _No._

 _No._

Raphael gazed with a blank expression, which was hiding his true rage. He shook and tried his damn hardest not to shed a tear.

His sister as he knew her was gone. All those memories were gone because of Hun. Raph slowly stood up and walked to the basement of Casey's house.

Casey had some old dusty dark gray biker gear that was patched, taped, and superglued back together. It made for a very grungy type street look. Casey dubbed the gear 'Nightwatcher' or something. He took his black leather jacket and wore it over it. Walking back upstairs, He was greeted by Casey and Sebastian.

"I haven't that stuff in years, man. Look at you bringing back memories. You going for a ride, Raph? It's best if you clear your head. I know this is all fuckin' you up, man."

"Yeah, somethin' like that." Raph finally spoke as he walked outside.

He hopped on the Yamaha V-Max and blasted some old school rap.

 _"Shaolin shadowboxing and the Wu-Tang sword style. If what you say is true, the Shaolin and the Wu-Tang could be dangerous. Do you think your Wu-Tang sword can defeat me?"_

 _"En garde, I'll let you try my Wu-Tang style."_

 _Bring da motherfuckin' ruckus!_

 _Bring da motherfuckin' ruckus!_

 _Bring da mother, bring da motherfuckin' ruckus!_

 _Bring da motherfuckin' ruckus!_

He was going hunting for Dragons on info for Hun, then he was going to the docks to find Slash.

He'd be damned if anyone get in his way.

* * *

 **YO! How'd ya dig it? Shit is about to turn up next chapter. Expect action and shocking truths...and sadness. Bout to get real!  
**

 **Peace.**


	20. Chapter 20

Brotherhood

Chapter 19

Streets of Rage III

 **YO! What's poppin' guys?! I got a new chapter for you guys. Y'all in for a treat!**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

Michelangelo stood on the dojo floor in a stance. He wore black sweat shorts and a white muscle shirt. His feet and arms were wrapped in bandages. He had bravery in his eyes, and courage in his heart. Splinter gave a curt nod and deftly threw multiple wooden shuriken at the young boy. He caught them with quick skill and posed like a hero from his favorite anime.

"You are progressing quite well, Michelangelo. Let us pick up the pace." Splinter charged and went for a leg sweep, catching Mikey off-guard. He recovered by using a crab walk to re-balance himself, a skill he knew from break-dancing.

The street artist seemed to quite good with his feet, so that's what he mainly used. Mikey went for a swift flash kick, only his sensei to redirect it and flip his on his back.

The small boy had heart and persistence, so he did something unorthodox. Splinter's leg crashed down like a strike of thunder. Michelangelo evaded by performing a head-slide on the hardwood floor, making some distance between him and his master.

Splinter didn't even see him move, and when he turned around Michelangelo's foot was in front of his neck. Splinter caught his leg and flipped him on his back.

They both backed down and bowed accordingly.

"Your training has served you well, I see. Just know that this is only the surface." The forty-five-year-old man walked over to the weapon rack and picked up a pair of nunchaku.

"How do you feel about these weapons?" He gave them to the young blonde.

Mikey looked at them with a familiarity.

"Though I ought to warn you, dual wielding nunchaku is completely unrealistic and quite difficult. It is quite challenging for even I to master. Michelangelo, it's time we have a conversation." Splinter's tone changed from authoritative to somber.

Mikey looked at his sensei with wary eyes. A sense of dread filling his chest.

"Mr. Antonio's death is not your fault."

Michelangelo wanted to walk away immediately. Splinter put a hand on his shoulder.

"Listen to me. He died because there was nothing you could have done. The people who killed him will get receive justice. Revenge is not good for the spirit, but this isn't for you. It's for the people who have needlessly been caught in their wake of terror. This is to make sure that doesn't happen to anyone else."

Mikey had to face his fears, or else he wouldn't be whole again.

* * *

When nighttime arrived, Raphael had preyed upon some random Dragon's hideout. His bike was blasting Wu-Tang when he hopped off. His training was incomplete, but he had enough years of street fighting and boxing to hold him over until he decided to get over his petty anger and go back to the old man.

 _It ain't over yet._

He kicked in the door like the police and found him cuddled up with some random bitch.

"You, sweetheart. Get the fuck out. I gotta little meeting I need with this bitch ass nigga." He spoke to the random woman huddled with the Purple Dragon.

"Yo, who the fuck is you?!" The Dragon pulled out his golden Beretta and aimed it at Raph.

"You really wanna dance? Let's get it then." A shot fired, in which the man in black somehow evaded.

The half-naked woman got her clothes and burned off in a hurry.

Raphael took out a metal baseball bat he had strapped to his back. He named it Robert after his Pops.

"Looks like somebody has some common sense. Where's Hun?" Raph pointed his bat at the thug.

Another shot fired off and Raph surged forward, grabbed his gun arm and broke it. A vicious snap was heard throughout the room.

"My bad, yo. I didn't think you heard me."

He swung the bat across the Dragon's jaw, cracking the metal against his mouth.

"Where is Hun?!"

"I don't fuckin' know alright!"

"Nah, my nigga. You know something b. You gonna tell me or I start breaking shit."

Raph looked at the golden gun on the floor, with an inquisitive gaze.

"Better yet, I start blastin' shit." Raphael picked up the gun and aimed at the thug.

"Fuck you!"

The minute that left his mouth, a burning bullet found a home in the Dragon's inner thigh.

"Try me, bruh. If the next words comin' out ya trap ain't what I wanna hear, I might miss and hit something real vital to ya future children. I ain't come all the way here for nothin', motherfucker. I'm runnin' outta patience and this pistol solid gold so… "

The Dragon was gripping his thigh in anguish.

"Alright, there's a cargo shipment on the docks. The Dragons there know where he is."

The golden gun was nestled against the thug's crotch. The metal pressed into the soft skin with tension rising in the air.

"You sure that's all you know, dog?"

"YES, please that's all I fuckin' know!"

Raph pistol whipped the butt of the gun across the fool's face.

"Appreciate you, my dude." As he began to walk away, he noticed a chain with a weight hanging from it by a table with drugs on it.

 _Huh, that shit reminds me of the fuckin' weighted chains the old man taught me how to use. Mankiri? Somethin' like that._

He picked them up and wrapped them around his chest like some flame-headed skull demon.

"Oh and if your info doesn't check out, I'm hangin' your fuckin' ass with these chains. Deadass."

Raphael left and hopped on his bike.

* * *

Onryo burned rubber like a bat outta hell towards the docks. Anger and hatred clear in his heart, his gloved fists gripping the steering wheel so tight he was afraid he would snap it off.

Once he arrived in the dead of night, like a shadow he began slicing throats of any Dragon who came in his way.

Upon the arrival of finding the shipment of cargo, he broke open the lock. A group of bodies were huddled up, shivering.

In this pile he saw April…and a dark-skinned child. Their bodies were marred with bruises. Granted they weren't serious, but it still had been enough to piss him off. She made eye contact with him, seeing his shaking form with spear in one hand and a smoke bomb in the other. To everyone else, he appeared as a ghostly creature with obsidian horns and curved teeth. Violet glowing eyes inflamed into a horrid vermilion.

"Onryo, please help us." April pleaded. Her broken tone set him on edge even more.

A Dragon attempted to stop him, which deemed idiotic. Seconds later, the idiot's arm was hanging from his body and his throat was spraying blood like a broken faucet. The blood had painted its way onto the innocent bodies. They shook with terror.

"Of course." His digital voice evenly spoke.

As he ushered them out from the container and into the streets, many Dragons flanked Onryo's side.

A specific Dragon with scars on his face and green hair and a Mexican accent spoke to him.

"Yo, you can't do that man. We need them." The Dragon's tone seemed to waiver, like he wasn't sure of himself. Onryo dropped a smoke bomb and vanished.

With gruesome sounds of gutting and slicing, a good handful of the Dragons were dispatched brutally.

Onryo was next to dispatch the green haired one.

* * *

Raphael climbed a shipping container on the docks, only to see some guy in black about to hurt Slash. His friend was on the ground looking at his assailant with no fear his eyes.

He threw a chain, knocking off the knife the guy had in his hand.

He dropped down, dragging his baseball bat with him.

"Yo Hayabusa, Imma need you to hop off him, aight?" He pointed the bat at the man in black.

"You shall know me as Onryo, fellow man in black. Do tell, why should I not murder this one?" His spear was placed against the Dragon's throat.

"Cause I'm lookin' for the fuckin' nigga who leads them all. He the reason for all this shit. That asshole is the only one who know where he at." Raphael's helmet shook with his head, nodding with a conformation.

"He is guilty by association with these wastes of life. He will be punished as well."

"Nah, we want the same thing. You want the Dragons taken out, I want their bitch ass leader. Why not work together?"

"You are correct. I do want the Dragons taken out, but unfortunately for you this means all of them. Including him." Onryo tapped the butt of the spear against Slash's chest to further emphasize his point.

"I can't let you do that then, homie."

"Then I'm afraid we are at an impasse, my friend." Onryo lifted his spear and pointed it at the Nightwatcher.

"You feelin' froggy, then jump my nigga." Raph took a stance with his bat.

They charged at one another, Raphael was surprisingly skilled with a metal bat as he blocked and redirected most attacks. But then Onryo got intricate with his attacks and began nicking him. He even managed to take his bat away from him.

Raph took a harsh stab to the shoulder, but was able to wrench the spear away from him. The fight quickly turned to Raph's favor as he was more skilled in boxing than Onryo was in martial arts.

The Nightwatcher began pummeling Onryo until a smoke bomb got into his line of sight and blinded him. The next thing he knew he was on his back and Onryo was nowhere to be found.

 _Who the fuck was that? I gotta quit fuckin' with these ninja types, man._

Raph got up and helped Slash to his feet.

* * *

Leonardo had gotten out of his cab and the first thing he sees is a piece of graffiti. The graffiti depicted a giant island turtle with a city skyline on its back. There was a quote underneath it that said:

TRUE STRENGTH COMES FROM THOSE WILLING TO REALIZE THEIR WEAKNESSES.

"Interesting quote. It seems not all wall art is obscene."

Next to the wall is an abandoned tea shop. Something told him to look inside. As he walked through, he found a decent sized metal chest that had some wear and tear on it.

When he opened it, he saw four pieces of cloth and colored wooden masks that looked awfully familiar.

* * *

 **What did you think?! Let me know in the reviews? Also lemme know what'd you like to see next from the brothers in the review section!  
**

 **Peace.**


	21. Chapter 21

Brotherhood

Chapter 20

Murder is Art

" _Murder is art, with a sword, I'm Picasso_

 _With a pistol, Da Vinci, I'm Van Gogh when I'm hostile_

 _A walking Michelangelo, no other can stop me_

 _Cause I'm strange with my approach like Salvador Dali" – VI Seconds, Murder is Art_

* * *

 ** _What's up?! Happy New Years y'all. Sorry about the delay, but you know me. Inconsistent as shit. Also since I said this was gonna be written like a hip-hop anime. Expect a lyric from many different jazz and rap artists, at the beginning of each chapter from now on, cool? Anyway, this is the chapter I was hyping up. We finally get to see what's lurkin' behind that Hannya mask of Onryo. Enjoy!_**

 ** _Let's get it._**

* * *

Leonardo took the box with him as he walked down the street and as he put it in his backpack. The cold Chicago night was something he was akin to. Training with the Tribunal made him accustomed to freezing temperatures, it was something he had been conditioned for his entire life. He could feel someone watching him. It wasn't an ordinary feeling of someone watching you either. An eerie sensation appeared, prickling the hairs on his neck.

He looked to see the guardian spirit on the rooftop, which was parallel to the alley he had stopped in. The turtle creature looked down at the brown skinned man, gazing into his eyes. He stood firm with determination in his white pupils. Leonardo's Native American roots led him to believe they were spirits sent to protect him.

They were something else entirely. Not malevolent by any means, yet far being passive or weak creatures.

Leonardo froze, his heart beating a mile a minute. The turtle spirit's feet made a silent landing against the ground like a ghost, their existence unnoticeable.

"What are you?" His voice didn't even sound like his own, like it was coming from someone else.

The turtle creature pointed to him with a calloused green finger. The three other turtle spirits appeared behind him. Flickers of voices and images burst through his head like a shotgun shell to the brain.

The gesture sent chills down the young man's spine.

What threw the young man for a loop, was when one of them began speaking.

"You will understand soon enough. We all will in due time." The tall one banded in purple spoke eloquently.

As quick as they arrived, they disappeared like a whisper in the wind.

It scared him, because he witness the beginning...and end of their existence.

* * *

Donatello looked at his desk after class. There was something clawing inside him and he just couldn't let it out.

One of his students, Johnny, walked into class to get something he forgot. He noticed the forlorn gaze in his beloved teacher's crimson eyes and couldn't help but say something.

"You ok, Donnie-sensei?" The brown boy's hazel eyes bored into his own.

"Trying."

"Truthfully?" The boy's aura led someone to believe that he was smarter than he seemed. Being one of Donatello's students caused one to be quite smarter than average.

"Failing."

"What's the deal? What do you grown-ups say, trouble in paradise?" The little boy's curious smirk caused Donnie to blanche.

"How would you even know—never mind that. I'm just very contemplative on some of the things I have done in my life. Especially what I regret doing in my life." The teacher's voice was muffled by his hands covering his face.

"You probably haven't showed Ms. O'Neil the real you yet, have you? Not telling someone you care about something is just as bad as lying. At least that's what my mom says." Johnny walked over to his desk and propped himself on the edge.

"I don't know if I should, it's not something good." Donnie looked into his student's eyes with a concerning gaze.

"What, you hide piece of yourself from others because you don't want them to see your true colors or something? Donnie-sensei, if it's really that bad…. you should just tell her. Be honest with her and yourself. Keeping it locked up inside is only gonna make it hurt more."

"Are you sure you weren't taught by anyone else prior to me?" A sad smile snuck onto his face.

"Nah, but that just means you're a good teacher." With those words, Johnny grabbed what he was looking for, and left.

 _I may be a good teacher._

 _But does that mean I am a good person?_

* * *

Michelangelo was spraying another one of his inspirational quotes on the wall. It just so happened be near the school that Donnie worked at. He didn't have his many selection of colors because he still didn't have his bag, so he had to use purple. He had to use his other skateboard to get to his spot, which wasn't a necessarily a cruising board, but he had to make due.

A chill hop mix played from his headphones as the rattle of his paint can filled the night air.

He decided to go with a set of wielding goggles hanging from a stick implanted into the ground. A small turtle shell and a flask filled a purple substance was next to it.

From his first impressions, he saw Donnie as a smart guy, so it would make sense that he would dabble in science and all that cool stuff.

But he had this feeling that Donnie, as nice of a dude that he was, had something lurking inside him.

Something dark.

He skated down the street, popping a kick-flip to a 5-0 onto a rail.

Donnie exited the school, and the first thing he saw was the piece of graffiti.

It triggered a vision of his, such as seeing a tall turtle flash by the piece of art.

* * *

April drove to Donnie's home, to surprise him with gift she got for him. It was a set of plastic chopsticks with his name engraved on them, she was sure he would love it. She ran her hand through her which sported a yellow flower that Donnie gave her. When she arrived, something was amiss.

His front door was wide open. A deep fear set itself inside April's stomach. A thousand different scenarios played around in her head.

Who broke into Donnie's house? What if he was hurt…or worse?

As fast as her feet in heels could carry her, she ran through the doorway. Her fears were worsened by the fact that there was blood everywhere. The dining room table was flipped, the chair and couch had stab punctures in them. Bloodied hand prints were littered throughout the room.

"No. No."

She ran her hands through her fiery locks in paranoia. The feeling of horror and pain sinking deep within her bones. She couldn't help but shake and tremble at the thought of her precious Donnie being hurt or killed.

"DONNIE!"

No response.

She jumped at the shriek of metal hitting flesh and bone. Screams of suffering came from the basement of her friend's home. Bile wanted to rise from her throat as she ran down towards the basement. Fresh blood was found splattered over the staircase; the fact that it was still dripping made skin crawl.

Darkness. The crescendo of Lux Aeterna cut through the air. The notes gave the room an eerie aura to the entire area. The soft violin gently floated through. Sounds of a struggle and combat filled the dark area. The whistle of a blade whipped through the air, and then grisly noise of that penetrating flesh, the bone cracking around it.

"No, no! Please, I'm sorry! I won't do it again!" A pleading voice screamed for he sounded helpless.

"I don't give third chances. This is the end." The digital voice spat out with venomous intent.

And then, a bright orange light filled the room, the shadows were illuminated by the bright flames coming from what looked like an incinerator. The horrid, gut wrenching, blood curdling cries of anguish exploded from the machine. The nauseous stench of burnt flesh filled the room.

As the flaming light encased the room, the shadow of the apparition that is Onryo appeared.

His glowing violet eyes scanned the room to find cerulean eyes gazing at him.

As the lights flickered on, Onryo appeared in front of her.

"What have you done with Donnie?! Why are you in his house?!"

"I'm tired of playing this game, Ms. O'Neil. I can't hide from myself anymore." Onryo ran his bloodied glove across her cheek, smearing the purity of it with his dark deed. Her fear was palpable; you could cut it with a sword. It was somehow still dangerously tangled with curiosity. She couldn't help herself, so she asked him a question.

"What game?! Where is Donnie?!"

"You don't get it, do you?! You want to know where Donnie is?!" His voice lost its digitization. It sounded muffled, but more human than robot.

"I'll tell you where he is, but my mask must be removed first." He closed the distance between them, their faces were almost touching.

"Why can't you just remove it?"

"Simple, I want you to do it, April."

Her hands slowly reached for the clasps of the mask. Her breathing sped up as her heart rate skyrocketed.

When the mask came off, and she finally saw the infamous ghost for who he really was. The mask clattered against the floor. Her blue orbs widened in shock and her body trembled. Her legs shaking as she gasped in disbelief.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way, April." That calm voice came from someone she held close to her heart.

She slowly backed away, speechless. She couldn't believe who she was looking at. Her soft voice sounding broken and hopeless as she uttered the name.

"Donnie?"

* * *

 **OH SHIT! The homie Donnie is the infamous Onryo?! Who woulda thought, huh?! Bet that threw y'all for a loop. How did you like it? Let a brother know.  
**

 **Peace!**


	22. Chapter 22

Brotherhood

Chapter 21

PRIDE.

 **What's up? I know it's been a while, y'all. The new semester just started and I'm gonna try my best to crank out new chapters. This chapter is something short to hold you over until I manage to post a new one.**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

 _"Now, in a perfect world, I probably won't be insensitive_  
 _Cold as December, but never remember what winter did_  
 _I wouldn't blame you for mistakes I made or the bed I laid_  
 _Seems like I point the finger just to make a point, nowadays" - Kendrick Lamar, PRIDE._

* * *

Donatello gazed into the eyes of his dear friend with pain and shame in his spirit. He could feel the disgust and horror in her stare as her hands covered her mouth. Her bright cerulean orbs burned like molten magma against his deep crimson. His white skin in onyx attire made the situation almost seem symbolic.

A young man of purity and innocence drowning a world of blackness and corruption. So instead of trying to rid himself of corruption, he became that very said corruption in order to fight off the blackness. The young woman seeing her secret love for what he truly is: a sheep hidden as a wolf, albeit one with a conscious heart.

"Who are you?" The words came out scattered and messy, much like his emotional spectrum.

"It's complicated. April-"

"NO! Do not bullshit me, Donnie! You're going to explain to me everything!" She was shaking as her cheeks were enflamed pink.

With a deep seated sigh, he began his tale.

"My birth name, the one I abandoned so long ago, is Dogen Takahashi. This all began when I was a teenager in Osaka, Japan."

" _Father, please. Don't do this to me. I'm sorry!" the young boy's words were slurred as he was drugged._

" _You are indeed sorry, boy. You're a failure of a son and you will be treated like one!"_

 _Tears flowed as the young boy was molested by his father. He couldn't struggle because his body felt as heavy as lead._

 _He felt his soul being blackened at the root, the branches being broken and the tree being cut into a cold and lifeless stump._

 _For an entire two years of his life, he felt that same feeling._

 _The boy looked to his mother for solace or some form of escape. He found none, at least nothing permanent._

 _When the boy turned eighteen, he had recently come home from martial arts practice. His mother was awakened by the sound of a blunt object thrashing against skin in the living room._

 _When the mother ran into the living room, what she saw was horrifying._

 _Her son was beating the lifeless corpse of her husband in a fit of rage and sorrow. The grisly noise of wood hitting flesh filled her senses again and again._

" _NO MORE! NO MORE! NO MOOORE!"_

 _The young teenager's brown hair and red-brown eyes was disheveled and messy. Tears streamed down his face as blood soaked into his trembling body. The wooden staff dripped the bloody flesh and bone that was once his father, onto the carpet._

 _She ran to her son and embraced him, just so he could stop hitting the corpse of his father._

" _Dogen, it's ok! It's over now! He won't hurt you anymore! I know he's hurt you, but's it alright now. Mommy's here, sweetie." She stroked her son's hair lovingly and slowly._

 _But something made him wrench himself from her grasp._

" _Get away from me."_

" _Dogen-"_

" _YOU KNEW?! THIS ENTIRE TIME, YOU KNEW AND DID NOTHING?!"_

" _I was scared to approach him, Dogen! He beats me, you know?!"_

 _Dogen looked up to his mother with hatred in his gaze._

" _Scared? You didn't know fear, mother. Fear is hoping he doesn't come to your room in a drunken haze with a lecherous gaze in his sleep ridden eyes. "_

 _Dogen stared deep his mother's soft brown eyes one last time._

" _I'm leaving this wretched place. Do NOT look for me. The least I'll give you is a warning, since you did show me compassion."_

 _He didn't see his mother until she arrived at his doorstep until he was twenty-one._

 _After the two had a long conversation, he put her to rest by drugging her. The serum shut down her vital organs._

 _She passed peacefully in her sleep. The young man then cremated her and used the soil to turn her ashes into a bright, golden flower._

April's eyes shed unabashed tears.

"Donatello, I'm sorry that happened to you."

The towering fellow paced around his lair. His body trembled with fiery emotion and his hands reached for something that simply wasn't there.

Self-acceptance.

"Now you know why I do what I do, April." The genius' sad tone broke her heart into fragments. It sounded like he was ashamed of what he had become.

"Donnie, you killed all those people." April's voice was torn between sounded angry and crestfallen. Yet somehow, she couldn't help but think that however wrong he may be, it's understandable.

"I'd do it all over again if it meant protecting those I love."

* * *

 **Read and Review yall?**

 **Peace.**


	23. Chapter 23

Brotherhood

Chapter 22

u.

* * *

 **WHAT'S POPPIN' YALL!**

 **I know it's been a while and shit, which is why i worked extra hard on this chapter. This is the one where they all meet! I'm sorry for the wait, but that's enough talk.**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

 _I know your secrets, don't let me tell them to the world_

 _About that shit you thinkin' and that time you *gulp* I'm 'bout to hurl_

 _I'm fucked up, but I ain't as fucked up as you_

 _You just can't get right; I think your heart made of bullet proof_

 _Should've killed yo' ass a long time ago_

 _You should've filled that black revolver blast a long time ago_

 _And if those mirrors could talk it would say, "You gotta go"_

 _And if I told your secrets_

 _The world'll know money can't stop a suicidal weakness– Kendrick Lamar, u._

* * *

Donatello found himself sitting in a bar, drinking a strong liquor. A somber and depressing rap song played throughout the establishment. He was too inebriated to even remember what he was drinking. His snow white hair was disheveled and his red orbs bloodshot. Bags were drowning under his eyes. He was clothed in his black suit and purple tie he wore for school. He thought of his mask's hollow expression. His suit jacket was hanging off the bar counter and his tie was loosened. His shirt sleeves were even rolled up.

" _April, I'm not fit for the children. There's too much hatred in my heart and black abyss in my spirit. Take care of them for me."_

 _The young man gave her a file. The file turned out to be a lesson plan for his class._

" _I understand if you hate me. Please go." Donatello's crimson eyes were dead inside._

" _But Donnie-"_

" _GO!"_

 _April cowered at the boom of his usually soft voice._

" _Donnie wait, how will I find you?"_

 _The somber genius looked at her one last time._

" _You won't."_

An old man walked from a door. He was tall as he was and middle aged. They both shared the same ethnicity from the shape of their eyes. Donnie didn't mistake him for frail, for the middle aged man had a hidden yet powerful build under his clothes.

"I believe you've had enough for tonight young man." The old man pulled the dark drink from his grasp.

"No, I need it. It's only way I'll forget about what I've done." Donnie's cold fingers tried to pull the burning liquid back, only for his hand to be smacked away.

"No. This is my establishment and I say you are done." The old man snatched the drink away.

Donnie's body lurched over the counter in despair. He couldn't do it; he couldn't face his fears alone. He can't claw his way out of the pit of anger and self-loathing that his soul.

"Michelangelo! Come pick up this young man from the counter."

Donatello froze at the mention of the name.

 _The boy I patched up? He's here?_

Lo and behold, the mute young man peeped his head out from the doorway of the dojo section of the bar.

The small boy cautiously walked over to the taller young man. Mike's bright blonde mop of hair was tousled and frizzy. A light sheen of sweat dusted over his pale skin. He was dressed in loose workout gear and had a pair of nunchaku in his hand, that suggested he was training earlier.

"What are you doing here, Michelangelo?"

The small boy shrugged in indifference as he walked over and put his hand on the taller gentleman. His blue eyes clashed against his red. Mikey was concerned to see the genius like this.

He wondered what demons he was fighting inside himself. The dark sinister evil crawling throughout his spirit. He could feel it radiating from him.

"You know this young man, Michelangelo?" The old man's mahogany eyes scanned the two boys in question. Splinter could see the younger boy's eyes light up.

Mikey nodded. He couldn't help but want to comfort the genius guy who saved his life.

Donatello could feel the genuine care flooding from the small boy, almost like a brother's love.

"I appreciate the comfort Michelangelo. It fills me with joy."

As Donatello analyzed the blonde's boy face, he couldn't help but notice this feeling of friendship and protectiveness over this random person.

Then he saw the flash of a turtle spirit with orange wrapped around his face. The freckled boy smiled brightly, his pearly whites gleaming like an anime character.

The two stood there, trying to see deep inside the other's soul to see what was there.

A hard knock on the door dropped them from their reverie. The silence that stood in the air was deafening.

Mikey ran to the door to see a bloodied and beaten up Raphael in biker gear. The night was cold and unforgiving, it nipped at their skin as it blew its way into the bar.

The small boy panicked and dragged him into the bar. Michelangelo was freaking out to say the least. He didn't like to see his brother figure like this, all bruised and battered. He was trying to help him; someone he had just met but bonded like best friends.

Splinter's eyes widened at the sight of his student beaten and broken. He couldn't stand to see his pupil like this. He told him not to do anything stupid!

"Raphael! What have you gotten yourself into?!" His tone almost sounded like a worried and concerned father.

The three dragged Raph into the dojo. They took off his biker jacket and saw a sea of dark and vicious violet bruises. Scars and puncture wounds littered his torso.

"What happened to you?" Splinter's voice was just as worried as it was furious.

"I was brawlin' with that fuck ass nigga Hun. Hoe ass gonna throw me out a two story window cause I hurt his lil' ass feelings and shit." Raph's black eye and bloodied nose didn't deter his slew of anger and rage.

"Out of a two story window?! How foolish could you be, Raphael! You could've gotten yourself killed. Think of how Michelangelo or your family would have felt about this. You are for a rude awakening when your condition is back to normal!" Splinter went to go pour himself a drink.

He clearly needed one dealing with his wayward student.

"Yeah yeah old man, don't pop an artery over there." The dreadlocked young man scoffed through the pain.

"These scars gon build character, fam. Shame they hurt like a bitch."

Mike gazed at his friend with worry in his ocean eyes. Tears pricking at them, swimming in a sea of hidden pain.

"Aye, don't look so sad b. I made you promise, right Mike? At least I got this." Raph slowly pulled off a familiar looking object his back.

It was Mikey's old backpack and skateboard.

Granted it had a bit of ash and soot on it, but it was still in pretty good condition. He looked inside to see everything as he left it. Paint cans, speaker, sketchpads and all.

The freckled boy couldn't stop the waterworks from flowing as he latched onto the street tough.

"AYE, shit! I know you happy but hop off a nigga, Mike! That shit hurts." His words went unheeded as the blonde laughed through his tears.

Splinter was in the bar talking to the somber genius. He had given some water to sober both of them up.

"What is your name, young man?" The old man's mahogany eyes were curious and calculating, something that reminded him of himself.

He supposed he couldn't lie to this man.

"I'm Dogen Takahashi, but I prefer Donatello." The genius couldn't look him in the eye with his tired crimson gaze.

"Hmm. Interesting. I sense there is something clawing away at you, which is why you are here drinking your sorrows away. I've been there. Tell me, do you think you could tend to Raphael's foolishly obtained bruises? I'm too angry to fix him with berating and scolding him with my hands. Besides, a good deed will help ease the calamity brewing inside your spirit, young one."

"Of course, anything to help a person in need."

"Good, I'll get the first aid kit."

Donnie walked into the room in which he saw the others in. The first aid kit was gripped tightly in his hand. Something immediately struck odd about Raphael.

Donnie quietly patched him up with precision and skill.

"I would assume you're Raphael. I'm Donatello. It seems you and Michelangelo have quite the bond." Donnie stuck out his hand for a handshake, in which Raph didn't take it. It's mainly because he saw a turtle creature the same height as him, with purple wielding goggles standing next to him.

"You know Brainiac over there, Mike?" The dread head seemed wary of the taller man, as there was something about the geek that didn't sit right with him.

The mute nodded fervently and smiled.

"I protected him when he was ambushed by the Purple Dragons, I stepped in to save him. I couldn't just let him be hurt like that."

"I get you, my guy. I couldn't let him get hurt neither. It's funny cause I stopped a Dragon from hurting him too. Just somethin' about him right? Call me Raph."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." The geek smiled and agreed.

Splinter walked back into the dojo and saw the three bonding and talking. He looked at them with content. He would tell them in due time.

The four were alerted by the bar door chime. The four walked into the lobby of bar with curiosity.

A brown skinned man with a feather in his hair walked in. His hetero-chromatic gaze was even and cold. He wore a dark jacket and dark clothes. A suitcase was on his back.

"I'm looking for a man named Splinter. Would you know where I'd be able to find him?" The voice of the mystery man made him seem like he didn't play games.

"Yo, who the fuck is this casino owner, Tonto lookin' ass nigga?" Raph was clutching his side in slight pain.

"And if I knew where he was?" The old man answered.

"I need answers to this." The mysterious person pulled out a box with the ninja headbands and face masks in it and slammed it on the bar counter.

The four young men all looked at each other at once and saw the turtle spirits together.

"Ah, you must be Leonardo. Your master told me about you."

"You know of my master?" Leo seemed shocked.

"He is one of closest friends. But sure, I will answer all your questions. But first let's have a drink."

As soon as they sat down, a smoke grenade crashed from the top glass window.

"GET DOWN!" The old man shouted in fear.

As the five hit the ground in top speed. Shadows sprinted from the smoke clothed in all obsidian clothing. The air was choked with smoke and fear. It clouded the room with a blanket of silence.

Leonardo threw his suitcase down and kicked it open to reveal his swords.

"Who are you?!" He coughed through the smoke.

"We are the Shadows of the Shredder. It is time for you to meet your maker." The ninja unsheathed his sword with intent to kill. The blade whistled through the air with a sharp ring.

The group of obsidian warriors charged forth to strike.

* * *

 **I'm hoping you guys are happy. This semester had me swamped. Read and Review my guys!  
**

 **Until next time, Peace!**


	24. Chapter 24

Brotherhood

Chapter 23

YOX

" _I know it's not at all fittin, I'm spitting rhymes that's mind altering_

 _Comin' from a kid with chinky eyes and he's not faltering_

 _No slips here cause my foundation is all carpeted, with bars arsenic, groundbreaking the all authentic_

 _Get it twisted 'til I can smoke it, Spottieottiedopaliscious with it_

 _Throw some penmanship in, slowly overload your systems with it_

 _I don't condone a flow that don't have no conviction in it_

 _No room to blow up if you don't have no commitment in it." – YEAR OF THE OX, YOX_

* * *

 **What's POPPIN?!**

 **Let's get it!**

* * *

Splinter gazed upon the sight of the Shadows of the Shredder. Their menacing, ghostly attire shook something in him that he thought was long gone.

Anger.

Hatred.

Rage.

How dare they break into his establishment and create conflict?!

They took his family once; they WILL not do it again.

He supposed he would never know peace.

The old man picked up his sword cane and with a twirl, he dissipated the smoke away like magic.

"LEAVE!"

The assassins in black all drew their weapons with intent to harm.

"Raphael, are you in any condition to fight?" The old man turned to the street tough.

The angry youth gave a pained expression and clutched his side. The pain spread like a wildfire throughout his body.

"Nah b, I just got my shit rocked." He gritted his teeth and spoke.

"Michelangelo, use your training and protect your bro—friend if need be."

The small boy nodded and dragged him into the dojo area of the bar.

"Donatello, how are good you with a staff?"

The geek had a small smile as he stood up from the bar stool, fists clenched. He needed an outlet for his anger and rage.

"Good enough."

Splinter threw a spare broomstick in his direction, granted the actual broom was missing, but it was perfect.

He turned to Leonardo with a look in his eyes. The mercenaries' blades were gripped tightly in his hands.

"I will answer your questions, all of them, in due time. But first we fight."

The three charged into battle, striking and slashing with intent to kill.

* * *

"Master, the plan is in motion." A woman garbed in black much like the other ninja. Yet her uniform had a pauldron with the infamous Foot symbol on it, suggesting she was higher ranking than the others.

The man known as The Evil was currently present in Saki's body.

"That is good to hear Karai. It is imperative that the five of them make it out alive. It needs to be ensured for the second part to work."

"Of course Master, I will not fail you."

"See that you don't."

* * *

Foot shadows made their way into dojo where Mike was protecting Raph.

The blonde boy grabbed a pair nunchaku, which were a natural light wood in color. As the ninja swarmed him, his attacks were uncoordinated because he was drowning in fear. Several kicks and punches were connected to his face and torso and were as vicious as snake bites.

Raphael couldn't move from the wall due to his injuries, but he couldn't just sit and do nothing as his little brother was essentially being jumped.

He kicked the weapon wall and a three section staff, known in Japanese as the sansetsukon, fell to the floor.

"MIKE, GET UP YO!" The street tough managed to yell out as he narrowly dodged a shuriken.

He proceeded to kick a Foot assassin in the nuts and followed with one to the solar plexus. He used his foot to slide the weapon to the beaten boy.

The second the blonde managed to grab the weapon something snapped inside of him. The air became cold around the room. Raph couldn't see what was happening but the group of ninja paused.

The fists and feet ceased their flight. They slowly backed away to reveal what really transpired.

That same shuriken hit a boombox, forcing it into playing a track.

 _You now rocking with the YOX_

 _(Stop what you doing, stop with the foolishness, and watch us show you how you do this shit)_

 _You now rocking with the YOX_

 _(Watch us maneuver it through manure, you never knew the trouble you were in)_

 _You now rocking with the YOX_

The boy was gripping a ninja's fist. His face was battered and bruised, but was clearly not whimpering in fear like before.

The look in his eyes told a whole different story. The years of pain, self-hatred, and weakness were gone. You could no longer see the ocean blue of his irises as they were covered by a milky white layer of film.

Michelangelo seemed possessed by some otherworldly spirit.

The boy swung the sansetsukon around him swift as the wind. A twirl of wood cut through the air bludgeoning his enemies. They all charged forth only to be knocked back.

The blonde got low in a crouching stance, the weapon hooked around his neck. A ninja ran up and attempted to throw out a kick.

Only for the wooden weapon to coil around his leg like a sneaky dragon, and thrown onto their ass.

A jovial yet eerie smile beamed across his face.

"Hehe."

After reclaiming his nunchaku and storing away the sansetsukon, he began merging ninjutsu and breakdancing to form a style all his own. Something, that resembled capoeira and pure improvisation.

Air flairs turned into low sweeping kicks and handstands became evasive techniques.

Donatello and Leonardo were back to back, slashing and striking accordingly. Donnie swept a Foot assassin off his feet only for the ninja to be kicked into a table by Leonardo.

Leo went high and Don went low. The two were in sync like two koi fish swimming in a pond. The fish scales were their weapons and the tides of water were their enemies that were swept away in their rage.

Splinter effortlessly wiped the floor with the assassins.

Things got hairy when a ninja threw a fire bomb at the alcohol bar.

"NO!" That only enraged Splinter more as he had worked so hard to build this place, only to watch it burn.

"Everyone, we must move!" Splinter shouted as he flicked a gust of wind towards his enemies, knocking them away.

As all the wood began to burn away, a support beam almost crushed Mikey.

Luckily something stopped it. The blonde looked up to see a battered Raphael holding up the massive burning support beam, strength came to him miraculously, and for some reason the fire wasn't burning him.

"Quit fuckin' sittin' there and go, nigga!"

* * *

The four managed to escape with their lives. They all had to sit on the curb from across the street and watch the building burn. The quartet were covered in soot and ash.

"Yo, where the old man at? He made it out, y'all?" The street tough spoke as he ruffled Mike's mop of hair.

"I don't know, Raph. I didn't see him, it's like he disappeared from thin air." Donatello looked solemnly into the fire.

The telltale sound of the cops came around to survey the scene.

"Are you young men the only ones here?" A cop of Asian ethnicity spoke to them with a pen and pad.

"Yes, officer. It must have some electrical shortage of something. We're glad to have made it out alive." The tall genius said with a sad smile gracing his features.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to be under arrest, until we figure out what's going on." The other cop, who was African- American, assessed the situation.

"Yo, what? We didn't do this shit, my nigga!" The street tough yelled.

"Someone is resisting arrest."

The two cops tased the four young men and put them in the cop car.

"We got em', the criminals are detained. What's the next move of action?"

* * *

 **So, What you thinkin'? Let me know in the reviews!  
**

 **PEACE!**


	25. Chapter 25

Brotherhood

Chapter 24

Bar Fight

 **WHAT'S POPPIN!? It's a lil bit which is why this chapter extra long. Y'all been waiting so here i am to deliver fam.**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

 _As of late I'm seeing snakes all tryna get put on_

 _So before they get too close I'm setting fire to the lawn_

 _Boy, who nicer than the Gawd? Lightning striking on my arm_

 _Holding on the hammer mackin' with my likeness gettin' drawn_

 _I've moved up a lot of levels, turned to a hostile fellow_

 _For the green I'll pull up with the stick like Donatello_

 _Irony in that, so I'm raising hell for the stacks_

 _Pulled up as a turtle just to put a shell on your back- VI Seconds VS Passionate MC, Bar Fight_

* * *

The four young men woke up in an interrogation room chained down to metal chairs.

The bright room was blinding as disorienting.

Raph was the first to wake up. His body was sore from the shock. He shook around when he realized he couldn't move.

"Yo, the fuck is this, b?!" The street tough yelled. He kept moving only for his efforts to be futile.

"We're not going anywhere soon, Raph. These restraints are made from some special carbon." A proper and intelligent voice spoke up. There's only one person who he knew that sounded like a nerd.

Donnie.

"Don, how we gettin' outta this shit? You the smart one." Raphael looked to Don as an irritated expression appeared on his face.

"I may have a plan. You'll have to trust me though."

"You get us outta here, I'll trust you with my life b."

Their conversation was cut short to the sound of sniffling.

Raph looked over to Mike to see if the little guy was ok. Fear encompassed his features.

"Mike, you good?"

The mute boy shook his head. It's clear the boy was scared as hot tears ran down his face.

"Michelangelo, it's going to be ok. We'll get out of this."

Mike was having a vision. That which included his turtle self and the others captured by a man in black and chrome armor.

" _Your brothers shall fight to the death with my shadows barehanded. If one of you loses, the other three will die. I will make you pick."_

" _FUCK YOU SHREDHEAD!" The red banded turtle cursed in his chains._

" _Why are you doing this, dude?!" Mikey found himself screaming._

" _This? This is all for justice and honor. Your four creatures have stained mine, therefore I shall stain these walls with your blood."_

"MIKE!"

He turned his head to see Raph gazing into his eyes with fear and worry. Acid green clashed against ocean blue.

"Einstein's got a plan. We gonna get outta here and beat the brakes off the fuck niggas who did this. You hear me?"

Mike stood frozen as he stared at his angry face. The street tough was very passionate about protecting him, he could tell he really cared. He was ignoring the sound of metal cuffs shuffling around.

"You hear me?!" Raph's brow creased as he yelled at the little one.

"It's clear you're scaring the small one, Raphael." Leo finally spoke up even though he had woken up quite some time ago.

"Yo who the fuck asked you, b? Don't even start, son." Raph growled at Leo, baring his teeth.

"Raph, calm down. Leonardo, stop it." Donnie berated the both of them. The genius was the first to loosen his cuffs.

"It seems the cuffs have some structural weakness in middle chain link. Now loosen and then pull. Act natural because I can hear someone coming."

The cop that came in didn't seem like a cop at all. There was something off about him and Leo could sense it all over.

"You guys burned down that bar, and therefore you are charged with arson." The Asian cop had a bad air about him.

"You really think you're fooling me by pretending to be police. You have Foot tattoos on the back of your neck." Leonardo analyzed the two.

"You can lie all you want, kid. It won't matter, we're gonna torture until you tell us what we want."

With a slight nod from Don to the other three, they broke from their chains.

Raph tackled the Asian cop and scooped him towards the ground. Four or five vicious hooks were thrown into his face. The four grabbed their belongings from holding.

"Fuck you!"

Someone must have heard them and shut on the alarm.

The four moved through the shadows like clockwork.

Sneaking through the corridors and knocking out every cop out that they found. Sure, there were definitely good cops within the bad, but based in their situation, they couldn't take any chances.

"I hope you know we are most likely fugitives, right?" Donatello spoke quietly.

"Fuck the police, b. Ain't nothing I ain't dealt with before." Raphael looked to all the cops they gave concussions to and let out a small chuckle.

* * *

As they escaped by roof from the police complex, they got an odd feeling that led them to the forest.

The woods of Chicago were not as eerie as one would think, but they definitely gave off a vibe.

Something led them to this giant tree. The same tree had colored paint on it.

Michelangelo walked to the tree with cautious optimism. The tree had their colors on it. When he touched it, he felt this surge of energy. That surge of energy caused his eyes to turn white once more.

" _DUDE! THIS IS RADICAL!"_

A voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"It seems you have made it out alive."

The four turned to see Splinter dressed in Japanese attire which consisted of a red sleeveless coat and brown ninja gi, which was coupled with a straw hat and his green cane sword.

"Old man, where the fuck you been?! We got arrested for some shit we didn't even do fam!"

"I understand your anger, Raphael. I had no choice but to disappear. Or else they would have killed us all. Besides, your skills have brought you here."

"You said you would give me answers, Splinter! Yet all I see is a façade!" Leonardo was so angry that he charged forth at Splinter only to knocked on his ass.

"If you would listen to me, you would get your answers. You are acting like Raphael now." The old sensei berated the young man.

"Some answers to all of these visions would be nice, Splinter." The genius agreed. Michelangelo was beside him nodding.

"I believe it is time I tell you all the truth, then. Come, follow me."

Leonardo got up as Raph snickered lowly. The assassin shot him an annoyed glare.

As the night sky shined and the fall leaves crunched beneath their feet, they didn't travel very far. The five reached a circle made in the ground with candles and wooden boxes with Japanese writing on them.

"I want the four of you to get into an Indian stance on the ground and clear your mind all distraction. Let your thoughts float."

As the four did accordingly, the sensei put the small wooden boxes into their laps and took colored paint and stroke their foreheads with a single line.

Their corresponding color dripped from their foreheads and into skin.

Instantly the four were tackled into a dream-like state.

* * *

" _Papa!"_

 _The turtles gathered around their father. They were young and just developing their skills._

" _Father, why are those guys in black trying to hurt us? What did we do?!" Michelangelo's tears streamed down his face. He was scared as he gripped his nunchaku, Donatello was trying to calm him down._

" _Aye Pops, you think we ever gonna have a normal life and stuff?"_

" _No Raphael, I doubt we will. This is our life now, my son." The rat put his hand on the smaller turtle's shoulder._

" _Father, I just don't know if I can be the leader you want me to be." Leonardo was downtrodden as he hung his head in shame._

" _Nonsense, Leonardo. You are more than enough. Your brothers and I believe in you. You must believe in yourself."_

" _Dad, what are we?" A tiny Donatello was found wearing glasses he found in the tunnel leading home._

" _We are mutants Donatello. You four are turtles, and I am a rat."_

" _But people call us weird and freaks. People aren't nice, papa."_

" _They hate what they do not understand, my son. You and your brothers are gifted, do not let anyone else tell you otherwise."_

* * *

 _The turtles were teenagers now at the age of sixteen._

" _Yo Raph, stop hogging the controller dude." Mikey complained as he tried reaching for said controller._

" _Mike, let me beat this level first bruh," Raph's hands mushed his little brother's face away from him. "You had your turn fam."_

" _You said that the last 3 turns, bro!" Mikey whined as he shoveled down a slice of pepperoni pizza._

" _Guys, it's time for training. Father wouldn't want us to be late." Leonardo walked into the living room, wrapping his arms and legs in bandages._

" _Father wouldn't want us to be late." Raph mocked his older brother._

" _Donnie, get out of the lab. Time to train." Mike yelled to his geek of a brother._

 _Donnie begrudgingly walked out of his lab with staff in hand._

 _Splinter waited in the dojo, drinking green tea. His brown eyes were glaring at his four sons._

 _The air became cold and thick with tension._

" _Pops, what's goin' on b?" Raphael cracked his knuckles with confusion and worry settling into his features._

" _It's time, my sons. We must face the Foot."_

* * *

 _The turtles are slightly older, now twenty-three._

 _The NYC rooftop was pouring with rain and lightning._

 _They were dressed in black ninja pants, a black poncho-esque garment, and black face paint. Black straw hats covered their heads. Their trademark headbands were tied around their arms._

 _Splinter stood in front of them, dressed similarly as his sons._

 _This was their final battle with the Foot._

" _Tonight I dine on turtle soup!" The infamous man in silver lightweight armor and black undergarments, bellowed out into the night._

" _It is no question that we may very well die, Saki! But trust that you shall become yurei with the rest of us!"_

 _Splinter turned to his sons, silently asking them if they were ready to die._

" _We're ready to leave this earth, Father. If it means vanquishing the Foot, then so be it." Leonardo nodded._

" _Let's get it, b. Mike, turn on that track." Raphael had an angry grin on his face._

" _May the afterlife grant us passage, Father." Donatello contemplated._

" _We're gonna ride the wave of the spirit realm, bros. I love you guys." Mike's sad smile graced his face._

 _The tunes of Wu-Tang Clan's "Ain't Nothin' Ta Fuck Wit" blasted through the night air._

 _WU-TANG CLAN AIN'T NOTHIN' FUCK TA WIT!_

 _WU-TANG CLAN AIN'T NOTHIN' FUCK TA WIT!_

 _WU-TANG CLAN AIN'T NOTHIN' FUCK TA WIT!_

 _WU-TANG CLAN AIN'T NOTHIN' FUCK TA WIT!_

 _And with that, the respective warriors charged forth, as their weapons clashed each Foot solider fell lifelessly to ground one by one._

 _The death of Splinter was from Shredder's gauntlet blades. This was only a ploy by Splinter in order to land a devastating slash to his chest._

 _He looked to sons with one last breath._

" _I love you all."_

 _Splinter's death incited a rage-induced battle cry between the brothers. Their eyes shed tears as they roared._

" _FATHER!"_

 _The four made a formation and dashed forth like shadows, each hitting their nemesis like clockwork. Donnie managed to carve Shredder out of his armor. Shredder managed to make sure this was the hardest victory ever. The turtles had already suffered from fatal injuries._

 _Leonardo sliced off his head with quick precision. He held up their trophy in victory._

 _Then the brothers let their tears flow freely. The pain and suffering gone._

 _The turtles walked to the forest with their father in their arms._

 _As they buried their father and master, they huddled in a tight hug._

" _We did it guys, w-we won." Leonardo congratulated them as his breath became short._

" _For father, for us, for family." Donatello coughed out blood._

" _TURTLE FUCKIN' POWER BITCH!" Raphael screamed victory as his chest poured blood out._

" _I'm scared guys." The small brother quietly spoke up. His knees were weak and his skateboard was broken in half._

 _The other three looked at their little brother._

" _It's alright, bro. We'll see each other again. Father too. I know it." The geek finally said as they all closed their eyes for eternal sleep._

* * *

The four young men were snatched back into the real world with tears in their eyes.

"Open the boxes." Splinter's calm and gentle voice brought them back.

The boxes contain meticulously crafted weapons that had their namesake's artistry engraved into them.

Dual ko-katana for Leonardo. The short blade for easy storage and speed, the long handle for deception and grip.

Dual sai for Raphael. The handles were crafted to resemble those of swords.

A single pair of nunchaku and sansetsukon for Michelangelo. The nunchaku for close quarters, the sansetsukon for longer range combat. They were both made from light colored wood.

They held them in their hands and everything suddenly made sense.

"So what is this, Splinter?" Don cautiously asked as his hands shook.

"Your visions you've been having are of the past. We were a family and we perished around seventeen years ago. The universe has reincarnated us to prepare us for the battle that has come again."

"So, hold up old man. We were turtles and you were a rat?" Raphael wiped his eyes with his arm.

"Precisely. It is time I teach you how to be a family again. We are ninja, warriors of not a trace. We are a force not be reckoned with."

Mikey took out his sketchpad and flipped to a page for them all to see.

It showed their turtle selves and their human selves dressed in vigilante ninja gear.

"Yes, Michelangelo. Prepare for war, my sons."

* * *

 **ITS TIME BRUH!**

 **WAR IS COMIN' YO!**

 **read and review! PEACE!**


	26. Chapter 26

Brotherhood

Chapter 25

Toguro

 _Mugen is moving his unit today!_

 _You couldn't do shit if you had a movement against me_

 _A tool in the coupe and a blade_

 _Trying to run me down, gun me down, I'm clowning_

 _Trying to cut me out, funny how I've seen it_

 _My come up wasn't sudden but thunderous it was scenic_

 _The world know I'm nice and I mean it- Anonymuz, Toguro_

* * *

 **Guys, yo. It's been a minute. My aunt passed away and school started back up so I'm tryin' to update the story. Thanks for being patient.**

 **VERY Short somethin' to hold y'all over. Sorry, longer chapter next time. I promise.**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

"Splinter, I'm curious as to where my weapon is." Donatello stared at his box only to find parts in it.

"I'm glad you asked that. Seeing you for the genius that you are, I was thinking you would build your weapon. There are metal and wooden parts inside. Have fun."

Donatello was intrigued to say the least. He was glad he could build his weapon so that he could a closer connection to it.

Raphael's expression was still that of perplexed.

"So, you said you gon teach us how to be fam and shit again, but how? The only dude I'm actually close to Mike here?"

Mike agreed with a determined nod.

"Training shall strengthen our bond. We must leave our old lives behind. Sever any attachments you have with anyone other than us. The lesser the better. Trust only those who would die for you."

"I have no one else. I'll be fine." Leonardo's were cast downward, almost as if his soul was burdened with something dark and somber.

"I'm sure if I'll be able to do that Splinter, considering how much I have on the line. I work as a teacher and there is someone I care for deeply. Though I doubt she would want to see me." Donatello's tone was also dipped in pain.

"I mean if I gotta do it, then I gotta do it. Even if I don't fuck with the idea." Raph finished with a sigh.

Michelangelo nodded slowly as he looked at the others.

"Good, our training starts now." Splinter tapped his cane against the leaves, crunching them underneath the bamboo.

Night time approached, the four were practicing a stealth exercise. They were dressed in dark green athletic clothes. The goal was to sneak and catch the old man by surprise.

Easy enough, right?

Nah.

"I suggest we use the trees for tactical approach from above. If we're going to catch him off guard, this is the best way."

"I don't really agree with you, b. Why don't step all quiet and shit on the nigga?"

"Because he would expect that," Donatello spoke up. Mikey nodded in agreement.

"Donatello is correct." A very familiar voice appeared from thin air.

The four jolted as they turned to see their target.

"While you two were arguing, you failed to notice me right next to you this entire time."

Raphael charged forth, his attacks were strong and heavy yet they lacked finesse. A simple dodge and trip landed the street tough on his ass.

Mikey was next, his capoeira kicks were fast and light, but there was no focus in his attacks. Once Splinter saw an opening, he kicked him in the ribs.

Donnie's mantis strikes were very particular and precise but he overthought them too much. All Splinter had to do grab his arm and throw him to the side.

Finally, Leo came in attacking with strengths that the others lacked. Only he had one problem. He had doubts in his mind.

That led to his downfall as Splinter copied his movements and found the small openings in his attacks. The old man parried his kick and followed up with a knee to the chest.

"You four do not work together. That is your issue. You were brothers, yet you do not see yourselves as family. Perhaps that is my fault. From now you all shall spend, from the time you wake to the time you rest, together. Some of you may not work well together, but that must change."

"This forest shall become our area for bonding and teamwork. We are living shadows of our mutant counterparts."

"So we were terrapins of the past." Donatello inquired.

"More like Terror-Pins, aye." Raph nudged Mike, who gave him a fist bump.

"I don't understand, Splinter. How can we be family? Those creatures who we once were are no more. This so called family you speak of is dead." Leo's mouth formed a tight line.

"I lost you four. My spirit has longed to see my sons again."

"What about the people in our lives, Splinter?" Raphael somberly looked to the ground.

"I suppose we should let them know of our involvement, as it is only fair. It is settled, go and see your families. Tell them you love and so forth and so on."

The four looked to one another and went their separate ways.

* * *

Peace. Drop a review if you liked this short ass chapter, they motivate me.


	27. Chapter 27

Brotherhood

Chapter 24

Hide

 _There's love at my front door, short notice_

 _You're not like the same girls I notice_

 _Think I met my soul mate_

 _Yeah, I know it_

 _When it gets dark outside_

 _In you I confide_

 _You help me face my demons_

 _I won't hide, hide_

 _Girls like you are hard to find_

 _I hope you don't mind_

 _If I give you the time of your life, life, life – Juice WRLD, Hide_

* * *

 **Been a long time, huh? Don't worry, I'm back y'all. Had to experience life for a lil bit, but I'm good now.**

 **Let's get it.**

* * *

Raphael climbed up the fire escape to Mona's apartment, only to hear a dude's voice. He quickly made his way up and knocked on her window. When she opened it to let the street tough in, he instantly is taken aback by Mona and that same dude kissing as he was on his way out the door.

He was frozen in time. She seemed so happy, and that smooth pissed Raph off. He tried to hide it and it almost showed.

"Yo, who was that guy? When you got a man?" Raph chuckled to hide his discomfort. He ran a hand through his dreads with nervousness.

"That was Brian, he's my new boyfriend."

Insert record scratch here.

What?

"Yo son, what you mean?" Raphael couldn't contain his anger. His green eyes flared with rage. He knew why she was doing this but he didn't have to like it.

"Raphael, I wasn't going to wait on you, idiota. Brian treats me well. It could've been you but you took too long to get your shit together."

"So it's like that huh? After all we been through? Damn Mona, I thought you was better than this baby firl." Raph laughed lowly. His fists clenched and unclenched rapidly as he looked at everything else but her.

"Me? You can't hop back into my life and be all boyfriend material and shit and then ghost on me the next day! I'm not a fucking rollercoaster where you can get on, have your fun and get off when you feel like it! My heart still aches for you, Rojo, but until you get your shit together…Brian is going to continue making me happy."

The door opened to reveal Brian once more. A medium-built Japanese man with green eyes and red-tipped hair.

Almost like a mirror to him. It broke his heart.

"Everything ok up here, babe?" He sounded so nice and it made Raph want to dome his ass with a shuriken.

"Yeah, everything's ok. Just talking to a good friend." Mona said those words and it hurt Raph more than any Purple Dragon or Foot soldier could.

"Yeah, I was just heading out b." His face glared at the Asian man as he left from the fire escape. He didn't have anything to say as he felt actual pain. He had feared he'd lost her forever.

Around two weeks pass, and Raph goes to visit Mona again. He was dressed in his usual black bomber and jeans. Only this time he had his bomber jacket underneath the hoodie which was paired with his black Air Force Ones. He does the usual fare of crawling up her fire escape. Only this time, there was no Brian to be found.

He knocked on her window out of courtesy, when she didn't answer immediately, he got worried. He could feel the tension coming from the room as he opened the window.

As he stepped in, he walked around with caution as he was trained to. He found Mona sitting her bed with sunglasses on. As he noticed she wasn't her usual self, he walked over to her.

"Yo Mona, why you got shades on? You good?" His eyes showed much concern for her. She looked in his direction with nervousness. Her face scrunched up as if she had a bad taste in her mouth.

"I'm fine, _Rojo_. The shades just help me focus." Raphael walked over to her and before she could protest, the shades were snatched from her face.

Raph's face did an excellent job hiding the rage that exploded behind his acid green stare. Mona sported a black eye and a grisly cut across her eyebrow.

"Who did it?"

"Raph, calm down. It's just a—"

"Who the FUCK did this to you?!" Raph's energy exploded in the room. "I swear if it's that nigga Brian, I'm deadass bout to fold his bitch ass like origami."

"Everything ok, babe?" Raph turned to see Brian standing in the doorway.

"Aye Brain, you wouldn't happen to know what happened to Mona's face, would you?" Raph's fingers subtly twitched.

"Nah, she ran into a wall, right?" Brian seemed nervous, almost like he didn't what to do.

"You mean to tell me; you don't know what's goin' on with yo girl? Y'all supposed to be together, right? Did the wall have a right hook or somethin' b?

"Look, asshole. This ain't got nothing to do with you!" Brian proceeded to pull out a gun.

"Brian, STOP!" Mona got up and ran in between the two. "Raphael, sit down."

"So you gon pull out the burner like that? I been lookin' for a reason to fuck you up, homie!" Raph grabbed Mona by the shoulders and moved her to the bed. He walked over to Brian and put his forehead against the gun's barrel.

"Do it, shoot me. You got a pair that big to be smackin' women around, right?"

"Raph, STOP IT NOW!"

When Brian took too long to pull the trigger, Raph wrenched the gun from his grip and dismantled it. He struck with a vicious head-butt and knocked Brian flat on his ass. The Asian stumbled as he found a way to stand up again,

"This the nigga you with, right?! He got the right to hit you?!" With a gleam of metal and swoosh of air, the street tough pulled his pair of sai from his jacket.

Raph lunged for Brian and began beating him with the hilts of the sai. His nose was broken in a matter of seconds. The Asian threw out a punch only for his arm to be caught in a prong of the sai and swiftly broken. Something came over Raph as his pupils were enveloped by a white film.

Brian was beginning to lose consciousness as Raphael was beating him to a bloody mess. The blows became faster and stronger. Mona's pleas for him to cease were distant, almost like she was in the other room. He only stopped because Mona pulled him off. There were tears in her eyes

"Raph! You're gonna kill him! I don't need you going to jail for murder! She looked into his eyes and saw the green begin to appear in them again. Blood rushed through his veins as he backed away and something akin to fear.

"Mona—I'm sorry. I didn't know—I gotta go." Raph jumped down the fire escape.

* * *

Mike opened the door to his uncle's home and he was picked up in a bear hug.

Uncle Leatherhead was so happy to see his nephew. "Michelangelo! It is so good to see you are well!"

Mikey beamed like he wasn't being crushed lovingly by his uncle. After their touching embrace, the two had tea.

Leatherhead could sense Mikey had something on his mind. He could see it in his bright cerulean eyes. He put a hand on his shoulder and smiled softly. "Is there something you would like to tell me, nephew?"

The blonde boy looked around as he grasped the cup of tea and his eyes flitted everywhere but his uncle. He sighed and gave in as he grabbed a notepad from his book bag.

He wrote everything he needed to say and drew everything he needed to, he then gave it to his uncle to read.

Leatherhead's eyes became concerned. He knew his nephew was troubled and scared but not like this. He found a drawing of Michelangelo and the young man with dreadlocks, but there were two other young men around his age. They were all dressed in some similar form of street vigilante gear. There was a symbol of the foot crossed out at the top of the drawing.

"Is this what you want to do, Michelangelo? Take out the Foot for they what did to Mr. Antonio and so many others?"

Mikey nodded fiercely, eyes filled with determination.

"As long as you can keep yourself safe and those around you, I support your decision. I supposed you want to shop for gear now?" Mikey nodded as they left their home.

* * *

Donatello approached the famous classroom he had been so used to teaching. He was dressed in normal clothes as opposed to his usual suit and tie. He had a cap and shades on as his hair and eyes were the most identifiable thing about him. He peeked through the window to see April, as beautiful as ever, teaching his class with ease. A smile came to his features.

"Ok class, what does the word appreciation mean? Wait don't answer that. I'm gonna go see who's at the door." As soon as she opened the door and walked outside, she froze in place. He may have tried to hide, but there was no mistaking her Donnie.

 _Her Donnie, where did that come from?_

"Donatello, what are you doing here?"

"I came to say goodbye, April. I'm going to be going away for a while. I see you're doing a great job with the kids."

"Donnie, wait. They want to see you; they miss you." April's eyes were pleading with him to stay, even for a little bit.

He fought a losing battle and caved in. April invited him in class and the kids swarmed him. They didn't have to see his eyes to know it was their beloved Donnie-sensei.

"Donnie-sensei!" The class cried out as they all hugged him tightly.

"We missed you so much!

"Where have you been Donnie-sensei?"

"Ms. O'Neil won't stop talking about you! Are you going out with her?"

"Have you slept in flour? Your skin is so white!"

"Kids, kids! I have missed you all as well. Unfortunately, I cannot stay for I have other matters to attend to."

The entire class whined as they gave him a puppy dog face.

"Kids, don't do that! You know I can't stay." As he turned, he saw April mimicking the children with her own puppy dog face.

He couldn't resist so he stayed to whole day catching up with his children for he knew he would go back later that night.

As school ended, April stopped him with a hug.

"Donnie, whatever is bothering you, maybe I can help?" April looked up at him as she removed his shades. Blue clashed against red, he cupped her chin between his two fingers. He pressed his lips against hers in a searing touch and pushed her against a wall. Their tongues danced passionately and they soon broke apart for breath.

"Donnie, what—I,"

"I'll find you later, I promise." Donnie then disappeared much like his former Onryo identity.

* * *

Leonardo walked through the forest to re-connect with these turtle spirits. He found his turtle counterpart staring back at him.

"Now that you know the truth, what will you do?" His counterpart spoke.

"I must find a way to find myself again or all hope is lost. If they are my family, then I have no choice but reconcile. I know they are not the brethren I know, but they will have to be." Leo saw the turtles appear and walk beside him. It scared him but it filled him with a sense of longing.

The assassin sharpened his blade and walked his way back to Splinter.

* * *

Sooner or later, the others came back to the old man.

"So, have you four figured things out?" Splinter questioned them.

Mikey pulled out a large suitcase and it contained several different gear items.

It was a specifically tailored outfit for each of them. They all consisted of a dark green hoodie, black joggers, hi-top running shoes, and a sling backpack.

Splinter provided Leo with a metal ashigaru hat and Raph a black Japanese demon face guard with golden teeth. Donnie had his Onyro mask and Mikey had his orange anti-dust face mask. They all looked up at Splinter with determination.

"Our war on the Foot begins soon. Our training as a team begins tonight. Prepare yourselves. This will be the fight of our lives."

* * *

 **The real training begins now. Ain't no more playin'. Catch y'all later. Leave a review, helps keep me motivated. Peace!**


End file.
